


Faking It

by tonytonesphoneroo5000



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Brett Talbot Lives, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Pining, Various Werewolf Tropes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:27:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 21,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21802150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tonytonesphoneroo5000/pseuds/tonytonesphoneroo5000
Summary: Liam can definitely handle fake dating Brett. He's definitely not going to fall in love. At all.
Relationships: Liam Dunbar/Brett Talbot
Comments: 102
Kudos: 189





	1. brett's shoes? WACK. brett's hair? WACK. the way his skin shines golden in the sunshine and liam can't tear his eyes away? WACK. being a werewolf? that's tight as FUCK

**Author's Note:**

> i fucking HATE MYSELF like i don't have enough stories planned this fuckin thing popped into my head and WOULDN'T LEAVE it's not like thiam is my otp or anything -_- whatever i guess they all get together as poly at some other point. anyway sorry this isn't my usual thiam stuff but i hope some of my regulars will like it anyway. got so tired of writing about brett and never actually getting to have him be important lol

Liam had thought he was safe at school, now that Monroe is dead and he’s actually made it to his senior year without anyone killing him. Even Theo, who used to seem like the biggest threat in the world, seems content to hang out with them and live like a normal teenager and spend a weird amount of time with Peter.

So he’s not expecting to be sitting innocently on the bleachers after school, going through the snacks his mom packed him for practice, when he smells...something. Something familiar. Cut grass and cherries and the distinctive chemical reek of the polyester they use in Devenford Prep uniforms.

His head spins so fast he feels his neck crack, which makes him choke a little on the peanut butter sandwich he had stuffed in his mouth so he’s basically spitting out chunks of bread and trying to breathe when he locks eyes with Brett, who’s standing at the bottom of the bleachers. Brett looks unfairly tall and handsome and cool, leaning one elbow against the railings of the bleachers as he sends one of those sleepy smiles up at Liam. “Hey.”

“What are you doing here?” he hisses. “I have lacrosse in an hour!”

“Wow, Liam, cause I’ve never been to one of your lacrosse practices before?” Brett rolls his eyes and Liam would launch himself at Brett’s pretty face but then he remembers that last time Brett came to a Beacon Hills lacrosse practice, he almost died. Which is sobering enough that he sits back, waiting for Brett to speak. 

“I have a proposition for you.”

“I am _not_ doing your homework.”

Brett stops, gives him a baffled look. “I’m a straight A student, Dunbar.” 

Liam can’t imagine what other reason Brett could need him for besides... “Is this a werewolf thing?”

Brett is now looking at Liam like he’s an idiot, which isn’t too different from usual. He makes his way up the bleachers to where Liam is sitting, settling next to him and for the 1000th time Liam is annoyed by how everything about Brett is attractive, from his body to his face to the way he smells. Being a werewolf has only made it worse, has made it so he can pick out Brett’s steady pulse and the reassuring calm scent that rarely leaves him. Not that Liam notices any of those things. Or cares. 

“It’s not a werewolf thing, would you shut up and listen to me?” Liam mimes zipping his mouth closed. “So, you know how a lot of my friends are assholes?” Liam does know, intimately, but he wasn’t expecting Brett to confirm it. Brett’s friends are a bunch of rich kids who found it hilarious to try and trigger Liam’s IED. They succeeded more often than not. 

“Yeah, I know. I just didn’t think you did,” he says carefully, starting to eat the grapes his mom packed and getting a weird feeling in his chest when Brett casually spears one with a claw and pops it in his mouth. He wishes he had that much control. 

“Of course I know. I hate those guys, I just need them around so no one bothers Lori.” Which makes enough sense; Lori was always a little strange, too intense and always knowing things about people that she shouldn’t, blurting it out. Probably due to being a werewolf, Liam is now realizing. If it wasn’t for Brett’s popularity, she’d be bullied as much as Liam was.

“Okay…” He’s trying to figure out where he matters in this. Is Brett switching schools? That would be great for the lacrosse team, if they weren’t already in March and about halfway through the season. 

“They made a bet with me.” Brett’s shoulders are hunched up to his chin, uncharacteristically nervous. Liam doesn’t think he’s ever seen Brett nervous. Scared, sure, they’ve all been scared together. Never anything as commonplace as nervous, though. “They said if I could trick you into dating me for the next two months, they’d give me $600.” That’s...a lot of money. Liam had no idea the people from his old school still hated him that much. It would’ve stung once, but Liam has a pack and friends and stability now, so he kind of just feels proud about his impact. 

“Why are you telling me this instead of just tricking me so I date you?” 

Brett hesitates, looks over at Liam for the first time since he started talking. “I...That would work?” 

Liam feels himself flush up to his hairline. “No, obviously _not_ , I would never date you. I’m just curious why you’re not trying.” 

Brett shrugs, takes another one of Liam’s grapes, which, rude. Liam is a (hopefully) growing young werewolf and Brett is depriving him of food. He glares, but Brett doesn’t seem to notice, choosing instead to look thoughtfully into the distance. His eyes are all silvery in this light and he looks like he’s modelling for prep school uniforms and Liam hates him. So much. “I know you hate me, but you saved my life. You saved _Lori’s_ life. And I’m not that much of an asshole anymore.”

Something about the fact that Brett’s willing to admit it has Liam warming to him, bumping their shoulders together. “I don’t hate you. Much. I’m still confused why you told me when you’re not planning to do anything.” 

“I am, though. What if we pretend? We fake date for a couple months, then we split the money. It’ll be fun.” 

_Fun_ isn’t how Liam would word it. Probably a bad idea, is more what he would say. His mouth starts moving without his permission, though, as it so often does. “Yeah, sure. Why not?”

Brett is turning to him, smiling for real, and it’s stupid that he looks even _more_ handsome with a big goofy grin on his face. Liam’s already regretting everything about this. “Thank you. I’ll text you later, okay?” Liam can hear his team coming up the field, followed by Mason’s familiar steady pulse and Corey’s fast fluttering heartbeat. 

“You still have my number?” Liam barely has time to get the words out before Brett is leaning in, taking Liam’s chin between two fingers and pressing their lips together, more gently than Liam would’ve expected. His mouth is soft and he tastes like grapes, unsurprisingly, pulls away with a light nip at Liam’s bottom lip. The grapes go tumbling down the bleachers as Liam’s hands go slack; he feels dazed, prickling hot under his skin and blinking up at Brett. It hadn’t occurred to him that dating meant, well, dating. With everything included. 

“Of course I have my boyfriend’s number. Thanks, gorgeous. I’ll be seeing you.” Brett strides off down the bleachers, greeting Liam’s team as if he didn’t just send Liam reeling, and he’s gone before Liam can summon up any indignation beyond the thought that Brett’s a really good kisser, because of course he is.

Mason is staring at him from the bottom of the bleachers like Liam’s a whole new person, breathes out a, “Dude. _Intense_.” Liam groans and buries his head in his hands.


	2. oh you want pining? you want to yearn, you fucking sicko? disgusting.

Liam usually eats lunch with Mason and Corey; now that the rest of the pack has graduated, his friend group has shrunk significantly. Sometimes Nolan sits with them. He stopped trying to kill Liam and all his friends, and ended up being pretty cool, if still on edge all the time. He also seems to be one of the few humans who remembers that the supernatural is real. Liam isn’t sure why, and doesn’t care to investigate as long as no one else remembers. 

He’s heading to lunch from his Baking class, which is an elective he took for an easy A and has ended up loving. Who knew that baking was so calming? Most of the flour is off his hands, and he’s hoping his face is clean, too. Mason will let him know.

“Liam.”

He almost fights against the hand on his arm, feeling his fangs prick his tongue, until he realizes it’s Brett and controls the shift. Brett’s in his Devenford Prep uniform and a snapback, which makes him look like an asshole and so of course suits him perfectly. He’s holding a bouquet of flowers in the curve of one arm, against his chest. Liam’s more interested in the plastic bag he has hanging from his wrist that smells like bacon and bread and veggies, like Liam’s absolute favorite sandwich.

“What’re you doing here?” 

He’s half afraid Brett’s here to pass on bad news, but there’s no fear in his face, just calm intent as he takes Liam’s chin in one hand, holding him. “You have flour on your nose.” He wipes it off with a thumb, gentler than Liam would’ve expected, smiles down at him. “Cute.” Cute? Liam isn’t cute, he’s _intimidating_ , as Brett should very well know. Just because they’re kind of dating doesn’t mean Brett gets to _compliment_ him, that’s weird. 

It’s disorienting enough that Liam lets Brett tug him outside to the picnic tables where they both sit, Brett passing the flowers off to Liam so he can hold them against his chest and also, more importantly, giving him food. It is indeed Liam’s favorite sandwich. And to think he was going to have mystery meat for lunch today. 

“What is this?” he asks, handing Brett the other sandwich in the bag, something healthy and full of protein, unlike Liam’s BLT. Of course that’s what Brett eats, his body is amazing even for werewolves. He probably doesn’t know what a carb is. 

“It’s a sandwich, babe.” 

Liam flushes with a mix of anger and something he’s not going to name. “You don’t have to call me babe when no one’s around.”

Brett shrugs. “I’m trying to get into the habit.” Liam’s unsure how he feels about Brett having a habit of calling him babe; what if it sticks around when this is over? He won’t be able to deal with it. 

“Whatever. Are you like this in all your relationships?” Liam asks, blinking down at the flowers in his hands. They’re sunflowers, his favorite. He isn’t even sure how Brett knows that. No one’s ever given him flowers before; he’s bought them, of course, but he’s only dated girls before this. _Not_ that he’s dating Brett.

“Like what?” Brett asks, appearing genuinely confused, taking his hat off and shaking out his curls. They glint golden in the sunlight which is. Just. That’s not fair. A freshman girl walking by stumbles into a bench cause she can’t stop staring and Liam doesn’t blame her. Brett is the kind of attractive you don’t really believe can happen in real life. 

He remembers the first time he met Brett, when he was young and arguably innocent and Brett had been friendly, had thrown an arm around Liam’s shoulders and tugged him in close against his side. The whole team had been excited about Liam’s potential, and Brett had been intensely close and touchy like he is with most people. Liam had pressed his face to the warmth under Brett’s jersey and been able to convince himself that this year would be a good one. He had also jerked off later to the thought of Brett’s laugh, the slope of his shoulders and the flex of muscles in his calves. He tries not to think about that, though, especially now that he knows what Brett can smell. 

“Like...this!” Liam emphasizes, shaking the flowers. A few petals drift onto his legs and Brett reaches out to brush them away, settles there with both hands on Liam’s thighs and Liam is _not_ going to think about how big Brett’s hands are, how they make him look small and how he’s forcing Liam’s legs open a little. 

“All I did was bring you flowers, Liam.” His favorite flowers, with a lunch for him that, again, is his favorite. Liam wonders how Brett remembers things like that. “I mean, we’re dating, right?” 

“Fake dating,” Liam reminds him, realizing people are looking at them and trying to remember what his face was like when he used to look at Hayden. He widens his eyes a bit and Brett frowns. 

“Are you in pain?” Apparently Liam doesn’t have a future as an actor. “And yes, I’m like this in all my relationships. No one’s ever complained before.” As if anyone would complain about their hot boyfriend bringing them food and flowers at lunch. If this was real, Liam would be putting pictures all over Snapchat just to brag and show off how great Brett is. Which he isn’t great. At all. He’s annoying and rude and his face is too pretty. 

It’s not a bad idea, though, so Liam snaps a picture of him anyway, writes ‘when he brings you food and flowers just because’ followed by a bunch of hearts, adds it to his story. He’s pretty sure a couple people from Devenford still follow him, and this looks convincing. If he saves the picture permanently, that’s his business. “I mean. Um. Thank you.” 

“Some people would kill to be seduced by me,” Brett muses, that stupid cocky smirk back on his face and Liam almost, _almost_ , hits him with the sunflowers, but they really are pretty and his mom will be thrilled when he brings them home. 

“Go pretend to date them, instead,” he grumbles, surprised to see that lunch is over and the students are filing back inside, some of them looking curiously at Brett in his uniform. He wouldn’t have expected time with Brett to go by this quickly. 

“I would never. There’s only one pissy werewolf good enough for me.” 

“I’m not-” His protest is cut off by Brett’s hand tangling in the front of his shirt, pulling him close and almost sending Liam tumbling off the picnic table except Brett has his other hand at the small of Liam’s back, Liam suddenly aware how sensitive he is there. He shudders under the touch, mouth opening against Brett’s, and the kiss this time is deeper, Brett biting harder at his bottom lip than he did before and who knew Liam would ever have the ability to compare kisses from Brett? 

His hands come up to rest on Brett’s thighs, feeling the solid muscle there, the shift when Brett tilts his head and licks over Liam’s lips. There’s a wolf whistle that Liam is only distantly aware of as Brett breaks the kiss and no one with a face that punchable should be able to make Liam feel like this, unable to control his heartbeat, knowing his chemosignals are all over the place. 

“I want to take you out somewhere. Text me.” 

“Right. Yeah…” 

Brett taps lightly at his cheek, smiling. “Earth to Liam. You have to get back to class.”

“ _You_ have to get back to class,” he snaps, which is mostly ineffectual and only has Brett laughing as he fits his hat back on. He looks stupidly good with his arms over his head and the muscles in his forearms flexing and the hat that makes him look like a big stupid asshole. Which Brett is. A big, stupid, Buddhist asshole who smells really nice. 

“Good comeback. See you later, babe.” Liam watches him lope towards the parking lot for longer than he would like to, lost in how graceful Brett is, just like Derek and Peter. Born wolves are like that, he figures. 

Sighing, he tucks the flowers under one arm and heads back inside to hide them in his locker until the end of the day. Day 2 of dating Brett, and he’s already not sure that the money will be worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what should i do next? this story is a lot more free form than my others, i'd appreciate some ideas :)
> 
> this story is basically my like...relaxation, like it's just fluff and fun haha
> 
> idk why i always write liam as liking BLT sandwiches he just seems the type i guess
> 
> i want to finish my thiam fic but i've worked so hard on it and received so much love and i want it to be perfect so i'm NERVOUS


	3. geography? never heard of her

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk where beacon hills is but let's pretend it's close to the coast:)
> 
> all these updates...that's the power of adderall
> 
> (which is prescribed to me)  
> (be careful with your medication)

Liam isn’t...this isn’t a real date. Brett is annoying as hell and he’s not even that attractive if you like, squint your eyes and don’t look at him head on, so Liam really shouldn’t be putting so much thought into what he’s wearing in the twenty minutes Brett gives him to get ready.

Liam doesn’t have a car; his IED puts him at risk for driving and being a werewolf only makes it worse. Liam has had the occasional nightmare of him leaping onto the hood of someone else’s car, fully wolfed out, and ripping them from their seats like sardines. He thinks it’s better just to mooch off Mason or Theo or whoever else is willing to drive him. At least he has a really good Uber rating. 

He hadn’t realized how most of his wardrobe is athletic wear until he’s flipping through it. He dresses for practice every day, has a suit for when his mom needs him to dress up fancy and not much else. A suit seems...a little much. The Devenford Prep uniform still hangs in one corner of his closet but Liam’s gained too much muscle for it to fit, and also if Brett is bringing him back to Devenford Prep for their fake date, Liam will gut him. Plus, there’s a lingering smell of sadness from when Liam used to wear it, which has him angry enough that when Brett shows up exactly on time and knocks, Liam rips the door open to glare up at him.

Brett is wearing sweats and a bemused expression, so at least Liam doesn’t have to dress nice. “Hey, baby.” Brett is clearly considering leaning in for a kiss, Liam stepping back and away because he won’t fall for that again. 

His mom, having heard the doorbell, comes out from her office in her cat pajamas, glasses pushed up into her hair and what is probably her third mug of coffee in one hand, dangerously close to sloshing out. 

She eyes Brett for a moment before she starts, clearly recognizing him. “Liam, baby, can I talk to you in my office, please?” Her ‘office’ is what used to be the guest room, her desk pushed up against the corner and her papers spread out over the guest bed that’s rarely used. Liam used to nap in here when he was a kid and the tapping of her keyboard would always lull him to sleep. “Is that…” 

“Yes,” Liam sighs, because his mom was totally filled in on all the bullshit Brett put him through after he transferred to Beacon Hills. She had wanted to sue, had gotten angrier than Liam had seen her since his bio dad left, but Liam didn’t want any more trouble. 

“ _What_ is he doing here?” she hisses, gesturing with the mug and Liam makes a kind of helpless shrugging motion because even he doesn’t know. 

“We’re kind of, like, dating?” He’s flushed because he knows Brett can hear him, that Brett definitely isn’t polite enough not to eavesdrop. And because this only seems to make her angrier. 

“You’re _dating_ that smug little asshole?” Normally Liam would be in complete agreement but Brett’s kind of okay now; at least, he’s no longer bullying Liam. 

“Um. Yeah. He said he was sorry.” He hasn’t. “And he brought me food at school. And those flowers I put on the dining room table.” His mom softens; sunflowers are her favorite, too. Liam’s not used to arguing with her, even on behalf of someone else. They’ve been a team since his bio dad went to jail, able to rely on each other when there was no one besides them. He pulls her into a hug; she’s only five feet tall so she’s small even to Liam, and he rests his chin on top of her head. “I’m making a thoughtful choice, okay?” 

She’s into self-help books, is constantly buying two copies so they can both read them and Liam always does even though he privately thinks they’re a little ridiculous. The latest one has been all about making thoughtful choices, which Liam is most definitely not doing in this situation but if he can lie to her about being a werewolf, he can lie to her about Brett.

“Fine. Are you sure this isn’t another trick?”

Liam fights the urge to laugh, shakes his head. “I’m sure. I’ll call you if something goes wrong.” Or he’ll just break Brett’s nose, which would be more satisfying.

She nods once and allows him to go back out to Brett, who is wearing the overly casual expression of a werewolf who heard everything they were saying. “If my son is not back by ten, I will be calling the police,” she tells Brett, stepping close so they’re nearly toe to toe and she has to crane her head back. It’s endearing how willing she is to fight someone more than a foot taller than her, that she’s always so willing to defend him. 

“That’s fair,” Brett says, and smiles down at her like butter wouldn’t melt. If Liam’s fighting the urge to punch him, then his mom’s barely resisting it; her fist curls.

“Well, we’ll get going now,” Liam rushes out, kissing his mom on the cheek because she probably won’t actually punch a teenage boy but he doesn’t entirely get his temper from his bio dad. “I love you! See you later!” he calls, pulling Brett out of his house and down the stairs to the driveway where Brett’s shitty Toyota is parked. She watches from the doorway as they pull down the street and drive away, Brett following the speed limit exactly.

“So, what’s your mom do?” Brett asks as they pull onto the highway, Liam only now realizing that he has no idea where they’re going. Hopefully it won’t involve nice clothes, cause he’s wearing basketball shorts. 

“She’s a medical consultant,” Liam says, testy, waiting for Brett to find something in that to tease him about. 

“Oh. Cool.” Brett seems content with that, settling into his seat as he picks up speed, the car rattling under them. Liam never would have expected Brett to drive such a crappy car. He doesn’t mention it, because he wasn’t actually raised in a barn no matter what Theo says and Theo can’t even talk cause he was raised by undead mad scientists. 

“She likes it.” She gets to work from home, which was great when Liam was a kid and there was always someone there when he needed her. She comes to all his lacrosse games unless she has a special project.

“She definitely doesn’t like me though, huh?” Liam turns from studying the dirt streaked toes of his sneakers to Brett, who has one hand on the wheel and the other on the center console. He’s squinting against the sun and his eyes are honey-gold, the muscles in his forearm flexing as he steers. The words ‘stupid hot’ float through Liam’s mind, not for the first time, and they’re overshadowed by the dumbfoundedness he’s currently feeling anyway.

“Of course she doesn’t like you.”

“Why?”

Now only the word ‘stupid’ is in Liam’s head as he stares. “Because you’re mean to me?” 

“Oh. Right.” Liam thinks there might be a trace of shame in Brett’s scent but he hasn’t learned enough yet to pick through smells, and he’s too busy staring at the beach Brett’s brought him to, one of the private ones that no one’s allowed into without a shitload of money. The sand is white and seaweed free.

Liam hesitates because of a lot of reasons, several of them having to do with how Brett has gotten out of his car and is peeling his shirt over his head, tossing it into the backseat along with his sweats, stands there in boxers that are tight around his thighs. “C’mon, Dunbar, before I die of old age.”

Liam’s not an ugly guy, he’s aware of that, but he doesn’t have an eight-pack like Brett and he doesn’t _glisten_ in the fucking _sun_ , like he comes permanently oiled. 

“Um…” 

Brett sighs, comes to the passenger side and opens the door for him. Liam does not look at the V where his hips dip into his shorts. He is looking away, at the concrete of the parking lot. 

“Let me take you out on a date, Liam.”

“We’re not even actually dating,” Liam hisses, getting out of the car anyway, and taking his own shirt off because he’s not a coward and he spends a lot of time at the gym.

Brett shrugs, his eyes tracking from Liam’s collar bones to his hips, completely obvious. “Your nipples are cute.” What is Liam even supposed to do with that? 

He follows Brett down to the water where he dips his toes in, pleasantly surprised by how warm it is this early in the year, and then unpleasantly surprised when Brett easily lifts him off his feet and tosses him into the water further than a human would be able to. The water no longer seems quite so warm and Liam comes up sputtering, his hair stuck to his forehead and neck, snarling.

He thinks about going back to the car, about yelling at Brett, except Brett’s followed him into the water and if he was dangerous before, now he’s deadly. Liam long ago came to terms with the fact that Brett’s the guy who made him realize he wasn’t straight, he just didn’t think he would be faced with a soaking wet Brett who’s slicking his hair back and wearing only boxers that are clinging to him. Liam is feeling many emotions, and chooses to follow Theo’s advice. He focuses on anger. 

“What if I had my cellphone on me?” he yells over the sound of the waves as he gets to his feet, shakes the water from his hair.

“You left it in the car, I made sure.” Liam is beginning to warm up and he hasn’t done anything fun in days; he doesn’t want to spend what could be a fun afternoon sulking. So he grins, and tackles Brett into the sea.

* * *

After about an hour of them both doing their best to drown each other, Liam is soaked and sandy and actually laughing, grabbing a handful of sand to rub into Brett’s perfect curls and finding some satisfaction in it. 

Brett freezes and so does Liam, suddenly afraid he’s gone too far until Brett is rising from the water with a gleam in his eye, promising, “I’m gonna stuff so much sand down your pants that they’ll call you Sandy Cheeks,” which is, like, the dorkiest thing Liam’s ever heard. Worse even than Stiles when the new Star Wars movie came out. He definitely wasn’t expecting it from cool, popular Brett and can’t hide the giggle that bubbles out from his throat, scrambling backwards in the water and onto the beach where he sprawls out, uncaring of the sand sticking to his back. 

The sun is warm on his skin and werewolves, Liam discovered a few summers ago, can only sunburn for a little bit. He feels the water droplets begin to dry and turn into salt on his skin, licks at his lips. 

After a bit longer spent splashing around Brett comes to join him, sitting up with his elbows resting on his knees, trying to rub the sand out of his hair. An impossible task. 

Liam is content to lay there with his eyes closed and only the sound of the waves in the background, the heat turning him dreamy. 

“My mom was a translator,” Brett says after a couple minutes, returning to a conversation Liam had assumed was over. He blinks one eye open. “She spoke French.” 

Liam has never bothered to consider why Brett and Lori are so attached to each other, with Satomi stepping in to take care of them. There have always been other things to worry about. He has a sudden, sick feeling in his stomach as he peers up at Brett, who’s staring out at the waves. “Is she…” 

“Yeah,” Brett finishes before Liam has to say it, hugs his knees to his chest. He no longer looks quite so big and smug; Liam isn’t sure he likes the change. “She was human. Dad wasn’t. Not every hunter is fair like the Argents, though. Only me and Lori were left when they took down the pack.” 

“I’m sorry,” is all Liam can think to say. He hasn’t lost anyone yet to this constant, hidden war, and he knows how lucky he is. He sees the ghost of Allison in Argent’s eyes, has seen the babydoll that Malia keeps with her always. The thing that’s worse than death is being left behind. 

“It was a long time ago,” Brett dismisses, and he starts teasing Liam about the way his hair is sticking up until Liam shoves him down into the sand. They end up messing around for about twenty minutes before Liam has Brett by the hair and is about to push his face into the sand, only then noticing that there are people coming towards them from down the beach. 

A human wouldn’t be able to hear that they are definitely not happy, yelling about dumb teenagers and riffraff. Liam exchanges a glance with Brett, and then they’re scrambling up and back to the car, running maybe slightly faster than they should be able to. There’s a tense moment where Brett’s car struggles to start before they’re on the road and speeding away, the people from the beach soon lost behind them. 

Liam can’t stop laughing, covered in sand and sweating in the sun-warmed car, his damp shorts soaking into Brett’s seats. They smell like sea salt and heat, Liam sleepy with it as the day dips fully into night. He’s the kind of tired that can only come from being at the beach, in the sun. It feels good. Brett’s humming along to the radio under his breath, not bothering to put his shirt back on. Liam’s eyes close as Brett takes the ramp onto the highway, his cheek pressed to the window.

* * *

“Hey, Liam, wake up before your mom thinks I’ve murdered you,” Brett is whispering, his big hand shaking Liam’s shoulder. Liam blinks awake to see they’re in his driveway, Brett bent through the open passenger door. At least he’s put a shirt on. “I would carry you, but then she would _definitely_ think I murdered you.”

He’s not wrong, and Liam has no desire to see his mom try to fight a 6’3 werewolf, so he yawns, gathers his shoes from the footwell and pads barefoot to his door with Brett following. “See you later,” he says with one hand on the doorknob, thinking mostly about how long he’ll be able to nap before his mom makes dinner. She makes a big deal about them eating together as a family when his dad’s not working. 

“We had a pretty good time today,” Brett says as he comes to loom behind Liam.

He turns and looks up, nodding. He did have a pretty good time, more than he was expecting. “We did.”

“So...do I get a goodnight kiss?” Liam steps inside and slams the door in his face, scowling. Fucking Brett, Liam can hear him laughing outside and considers pushing him off the porch if that didn’t require touching. Liam can’t allow himself to forget how annoying Brett is, even if Brett takes him on fun fake dates to the beach. It’s too dangerous.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a swimming scene was implemented as i promised TheLoudestSilence hope you like it!
> 
> i've been writing a large chunk of this story around prompt fills. this chapter is from "let me take you out on a date" and "so...do i get a goodnight kiss?" unfortunately i can't remember what the prompt fill was but it's on tumblr and it was about soft opening sentences  
> 100000% basing brett's texting style off this fuckboy i've been talking to for about a month lol
> 
> liam at the beach with brett is the "i am looking away meme"
> 
> i promise the sun is setting at an accurate time because i spent several minutes looking at sunset information in california in march 
> 
> wouldn't be me if it wasn't a little angsty out of nowhere -_-
> 
> jenna dunbar in this fic is characterized after my mom, as always, because i think it's so sweet how my mom holds grudges on my behalf and always fights for me :) <3


	4. HEART EYES, MOTHERFUCKER

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ugh i know i'm the worssssst at updating i'm sorry! i think i'll try to update on a weekly basis from now on though and so i'll be updating my other stories as well....i'm just so busy! but that's what adderall's for i guess lol (it is prescribed to me be careful out there guys!)  
> anyway here's a chapter where i refuse to ignore that brett was a big terrible bully

_Liam’s Freshman Year_

If Liam could control the shuddering breaths that don’t seem to want to stay in his throat, that would be awesome.

He would text Mason, but he’s texted Mason every day for the past week or so and he doesn’t think Mason will be able to do anything about the fact that one of Brett’s asshole friends shoved him against a locker and bruised his arm and _what if he can’t play lacrosse_ , and Liam has to take another deep, slow breath through his nose, forcing it, or he’s going to punch the bathroom wall and break his knuckles. Again.

The worst part, he thinks, is that it’s not like in those high school movies where there’d be a face off in the middle of the hallway. Brett won’t even _talk_ to him, ignores him at practice or the one time Liam dared text him. It’s his friends who do everything instead while Brett is all big innocent smiles and threatening to break Liam in half. Liam never had this problem in middle school. 

He tucks his face into his knees, trying to ignore how cold the tile floor feels through his jeans and that this is gross. And that he’s crying a little. His mom keeps asking how school was and she’s so smiley that Liam doesn’t have the heart to tell her the truth. Mason’s doing his best but he doesn’t really get it. 

Liam eventually gets to his feet and heads back to class, brushing past Brett as he walks through the bathroom door, because of course he does. Brett sniffs the air, which… _weird_ , and smirks in a way Liam has learned to dread. “Were you crying, baby?” he asks, so soft and gentle that Liam really can’t be blamed for punching him in the nose.

* * *

_Now_

“So, you’re like, dating Brett now?” Mason asks one Friday when they’ve been gaming for so long that Liam’s thumbs are actually sore, which he didn’t think could happen to werewolves.

Liam hesitates and gets killed, but he has to die sometimes or his supernaturally fast reflexes make people complain. It would be weird to get outed as a werewolf because he’s too good at Fortnite. 

“Kind of?” he tries, which Mason would’ve never have let him get away with but after the whole werewolf thing they’ve learned to be more careful around each other in some ways. 

“I mean...he was pretty horrible to you.” Liam shrugs, not looking at Mason and not needing to; he’s gotten good enough at reading scents that he can pick apart the bitter concern and confusion in Mason’s. 

“Yeah, he was.” They’re quiet for a moment while Liam searches for the most honest thing he can tell Mason. “He’s okay now?”

Mason huffs a laugh, finally putting his controller down to look sideways at Liam, who can’t keep the smile off his own face. “Well, he’s an asshole, but he _is_ gorgeous. Does he make you happy?” 

Liam thinks to the sunflowers that are still on his dining room table, the sun drenched afternoon that he can’t stop thinking about. He also thinks about the texts Brett’s been sending him; just little things, memes or jokes about his day, but it’s been a while since Liam had good morning texts and he had forgotten how much he likes it. Maybe more so when they come from Brett. “Yeah, he makes me happy.” 

“That’s good enough for me,” Mason says, and they start their next game.

* * *

Liam’s kind of gotten used to Brett dropping by whenever he feels like it; Liam genuinely wonders what’s up with Devenford Prep that one of it’s students can spend most of his time stalking him. Not stalking him so much at this point, because they shared their locations with each other for reasons Liam’s not quite sure about, but. Still. It’s weird to have gone the whole day and even through practice without Brett showing up at some point. Liam almost misses him. 

He shakes the sweat from his hair; Coach went so hard at practice today that even Liam is exhausted, had done enough pushups that his eyes are still watering as he heads to walk home, not feeling like showering with the guys today and getting his ass whipped with a towel. 

“Hey.”

Liam nearly jumps out his skin, feels his eyes flare yellow as Brett gets up from where he was leaning against his car, looking like what people imagine everyone in a private school looks like; perfect and gorgeous and effortlessly put together. Liam hates him so much. 

“What’re you doing here?” he asks, smiling despite himself because Brett has a pack of the mini-cupcakes Liam loves so much and can never convince his mom to buy. He takes the cupcakes from Brett and accepts a kiss on the cheek as has become normal for them, Brett taking a second to rub his cheek against Liam’s ear, scenting him, which Liam would have more of a problem with if Brett didn’t smell so good. 

He wonders if Brett does that with other people he dates, with humans, and feels an uncomfortable bubble of jealousy in his gut. Brett better not be fake cheating on their fake relationship.

“I thought you could use a ride home,” Brett says, straightening and gesturing to his car, which does look like a much better option than the trek home. It’s only a mile, Liam could do it in his sleep, he just doesn’t want to.

“I’m going to start thinking you actually like me or something,” Liam jokes as he slides into the passenger seat of Brett’s car, shuffles aside some papers so he can rest his backpack at his feet. 

“I do actually like you.” Liam can’t catch a skip in the steady pound of his heart, but maybe he just wasn’t listening hard enough. “Were you crying, baby?” Brett asks after a moment, and Liam has the most intense deja vu for a moment and can’t figure out why. “You smell like salt.”

“Just sweat,” Liam dismisses, because he’ll die before he admits to Brett that he did so many pushups he almost threw up. Brett probably does a thousand pushups before a breakfast of, like, egg whites. 

“If I take you somewhere before I drop you off, are you going to sic your mom on me?” 

“Depends what it is,” Liam says carefully, suddenly nervous, wondering if this is the point where Brett drops the smile and Liam ends up in a circle of mocking grins again because how _dare_ he think someone like Brett would be nice to him, when he’s just a fucking timebomb…

“Hey. Liam.” There’s Brett’s voice, and his hand, on Liam’s _thigh_ , which pulls Liam right the fuck back from where his mind was headed. “You okay? You smell upset. I can bring you home instead, if you want?”

And then Liam remembers that he can literally smell lies (unless it’s Theo) and relaxes into the seat, bouncing his knee up into Brett’s hand. “I’m fine. Where did you want to take me?” Brett just grins and turns onto the highway.


	5. bold of liam to assume brett doesn't routinely fantasize about railing him

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm back bitches a day later than i said i would be but BACK. as u can all see from the screenshot, my phone is chronically on low battery but that's just because bad bitches don't need to charge their phone (ofc i'm kidding i'm just too lazy to leave my armchair)  
> spring break next week so if you guys are annoying enough i can probably get up at least 2 chapters for some of my stories :) MAYBE MORE  
> i always feel so guilty about not posting but at least this story is on track? all according to keikaku (keikaku means plan)

“Are you for real?” Liam asks, peering up at the In-N-Out sign. They live in California, he’s been here before, he just. Didn’t think Brett would go here. “What are you going to eat?”

Brett gives him a weird look as he gets in line for the drive-in, arm hanging out the open window. “A cheeseburger? What do you think I eat?” Liam doesn’t want to admit that he thinks Brett eats kale and egg whites for every meal, but his guilty expression must be enough because Brett laughs at him, not unpleasantly. Liam can feel himself turn pink anyway. “I’m not some fitness freak.”

“Your body is beyond perfect,” Liam blurts; he’s quoting Mason, but Brett gives him a pleased little smile that’s almost shy, and Liam doesn’t have the heart to take it back. He also meant it, unfortunately. No one can deny that Brett is gorgeous. 

They run through their orders; three meals each because they’re werewolves, and sit on the hood of Brett’s car in the parking lot, late afternoon sun slanting through the trees and turning Brett even more golden than usual. Liam’s life is nothing but pain. 

“You should visit me at school sometime,” Brett says when he’s done, licking at his fingers and Liam is really beginning to wonder if werewolves are able to get brain damage. He chooses to focus on that instead of how pink Brett’s tongue is.

“Why would I do that?” he asks, dumbfounded.

“Because we’re dating?”

“Fake-dating,” Liam reminds him. “And again-why would I ever go back there?” He has, of course, but only for lacrosse games and every time a couple of Brett’s lacrosse lackeys think it’s hilarious to make fun of him. 

“Kind of weird for my boyfriend not to visit me at school.” 

“Kind of weird to think I wouldn’t be attacked as soon as I set foot there.” 

“No one will bother you,” Brett dismisses, and Liam genuinely considers shoving him off the car. Any injuries would heal. 

“Every time I go to Devenford, one of your asshole friends bullies me.” It’s annoying at this point more than anything; Liam is stronger than any human no matter how jacked they are, he just doesn’t want to deal with it.

He finishes his meal and crinkles all the wrappers up, shoving them into the bag a pensive Brett is offering. “If they do it again, you _tell_ me.” Liam watches as he aims for the nearest trash can and tosses in a perfect arc, the bag falling inside without effort. Nearby, a couple of pre-teens are giggling behind their hands, unaware that both Liam and Brett can hear them talking about how cute they are. Liam is privately a little pleased that he’s included in that too. He’s no Brett, but he’s okay looking. “Let’s go,” Brett says, suddenly brooding, his scent souring enough that even Liam can sense it, glancing over at him with surprise.

“Sure, alright,” he agrees, pushing off the car and waiting patiently in his seat as Brett gets in and starts it, throwing his arm over the back of Liam’s seat as he puts the car in reverse and pulls out. 

“I’ve got your back, okay?” Brett mumbles as they pull onto the highway, Liam scowling at the guy in a souped up truck who nearly sideswipes them. 

“I don’t know why you care,” Liam admits; he knows Brett would defend him in a life or death situation, it’s just different when it’s regular life. Liam would also defend Peter, that doesn’t mean he wants to hang out with him like Theo has been doing a lot lately. Liam shudders to think of what they talk about.

Brett taps his fingers against the wheel, annoyed in a way he usually isn’t and Liam wonders when he started being able to get under Brett’s skin. “You saved Lori and me. Multiple times.” Liam thinks of the last time, Brett coughing up black blood, almost dying under the wheels of a fucking truck if Liam hadn’t been able to pull him down last second and avoid Gerard, the long hours in Deaton’s clinic when no one was sure whether Brett would make it and everyone had been so sympathetic that Liam wanted to scream. Brett had looked small on the table in Deaton’s clinic, Lori nodding off over his hand, Satomi sitting rigidly at her side, the few remaining members of her pack pacing around outside while Deaton constantly reminded them that waiting and hope were the only options they had. “And I like you,” Brett says for the second time. Liam’s starting to think he might actually be serious. 

“It’s fine, they don’t really bother me anyway,” Liam mutters, bending over his phone so he doesn’t have to look at Brett and get confused again. Brett makes him stupid, stuttering and tongue-tied and so Liam just scrolls through Buzzfeed. He likes their quizzes even if Mason teases him. “What supernatural creature would you be?” he reads aloud, bouncing his phone on his knee, hissing through his teeth when he gets vampire instead of something sensible like werewolf. Vampires aren’t real anyway, he’s pretty sure. Scott would have told him, right? 

“Let me try,” Brett says, looking over with interest. “What’d you get?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Liam answers, because if vampires _are_ real and it’s embarrassing to be one he’ll be pissed. “Here, what’s your favorite animal? Wolf, cat, horse, lovebirds, baby deer, or dolphin.” 

“Wolf,” Brett says like it’s obvious, which it kind of is. Liam picked that too. Wolves are cool and he still kind of wishes he could turn into one like Derek can. He just doesn’t want to have to age backwards and then like mystically die or whatever happened to Derek. 

They go through the list, and Brett inevitably gets werewolf which is so unfair. Liam’s a stronger werewolf than Brett and his pack is cooler. Except for Satomi because she’s awesome and Liam saw her deflect bullets once, like the Matrix. 

They pull up to his house and Liam realizes it’s late; thank God for werewolf metabolism, cause his mom would be pissed if he was too full to eat dinner. Brett’s hand moves from behind Liam’s seat to tap the back of his neck, Liam shivering under the touch. 

Ever since he was bitten there have been things that have changed that he wasn’t expecting, like how weird they all get about their necks. He’d bent to give Hayden a hickey once and she’d snapped her fangs at his face, been frantically apologetic after. They have to be careful with each other. 

Brett’s fingers push into his nape and Liam _knows_ he’s rubbing his scent there, proprietary, which isn’t even necessary because the people they’re trying to fool aren’t werewolves. He doesn’t know why he lets it happen anyway, feels his eyes flare gold and closes them. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, right?” Brett asks, and Liam has to mentally shake himself to respond. 

“No. I have a field trip.” Senior year trip, where they go to an amusement park and everyone gets to goof off. Liam is planning to finally force Mason to do the ride that shoots you up in the air in a ball, and he thinks Corey will help. 

“Where are you going?” Brett asks, and Liam has the bizarre worry that Brett will follow him until he realizes he’s being ridiculous and Brett’s just trying to make conversation like a normal person. 

“Amusement park.” 

“Are you tall enough to get on the rides?” Brett asks with false sympathy, smirking, and Liam would have lunged for him a couple years ago, when he was less confident and didn’t have super powers. And when the teasing was malicious. As is, he just makes a face, pulling away from Brett’s hand, so he’s surprised when Brett hurries to say, “I like it, though.” 

“Um, going on roller coasters?”

“No. I mean, yes, but that’s not what I meant.” Liam waits patiently, for him; his leg is bouncing. It kind of always is, though. “I like that you’re smaller than me.” 

“So you can beat me up more easily?” Liam doesn’t really get where Brett’s going with this; Liam’s stronger than him now anyway, and Brett was never really physically violent.

“No, it just makes me feel...Um. I don’t know.”

A flustered Brett is not something Liam is used to and he kind of likes it, can’t keep the grin off his face at the role switch. “Spit it out, Talbot.”

“Like I could pick you up. Throw you around. It’s hot.” Liam can’t detect a trace of dishonesty in any part of Brett, feels the skin of his neck and chest get warm to match the flush of Brett’s ears. He will now forever have the image in his head of Brett’s big hands on his thighs, his hips, tugging him around, holding him down. 

Liam is knowledgeable enough about himself to know he likes dominant, pushy people; God knows Hayden was always the one in charge. And he had those same kinds of thoughts when he first saw Brett, they just went away when Brett turned out to be an asshole. 

They’ve come back in force as Liam tracks his eyes over Brett’s broad shoulders, his strong arms, and reminds himself that everything about this is fake. “That’s. Uh. I’ll see you later,” he says pathetically, practically throwing himself out of the car because werewolves can smell arousal and Liam will actually die before he lets Brett know how hard he is right now. He doesn’t look back as he hurries into his house, hearing Brett let out a defeated sigh behind him.

Liam isn’t sure what else exactly Brett could’ve meant, but he finds himself smiling as he falls asleep anyway. It feels good to have the upper hand for once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pls leave comments if you like...i live for them. especially you TheLoudestSilence i tried 2 add more stuff that you like <3(not that you have to leave comments!! no pressure!!)


	6. when you and your kind of fake kind of not boyfriend are yearning at each other in the middle of the street while regular people are trying to sleep: the briam story

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> day whatever of being on lockdown and if i have any more enforced family funtime i'm going to kms (i am kidding) but yeah i hope you're all taking care of yourselves/each other and doing okay, considering the circumstances

“You have to,” Mason says, and Liam takes another deep swallow of the fruity drink that won’t do anything to impact him. He would just stop drinking alcohol in general, but he can tell that Mason likes to not be the only one in their friend group drinking. Considering how many of their friends are supernatural, Liam kind of has to just suck it up and take it.

“I don’t have to.”

Across the dance floor, surrounded by the younger members of his pack (Lori noticeably absent) Brett is sipping at his own drink, tipping his head back to laugh at someone’s joke. He looks more relaxed like this, safe with his pack, happy and leaning over to squeeze shoulders. With his lackeys at school, his jaw was always tensed. Liam had thought that was his natural expression. 

“He’s your boyfriend, so yeah, you do kind of have to dance with him.” Mason puts air quotes around the word “boyfriend” because a couple days ago Liam got too overwhelmed with guilt to keep the secret anymore, and told him. Mason had been characteristically relaxed about it, once he realized Liam is fine, and now he mostly just teases him. 

“I don’t dance, you know that.”

Mason rolls his eyes, swirls his straw around in his drink. It was free, because Corey’s not here and Mason has always had an easier time than Liam getting people to do things for him, even if it was only from someone who saw him across the room, thought he was cute, made an effort, and was summarily turned away. “Okay, High School Musical. S’not like it’s hard.”

Maybe not for Mason, but Liam can already see himself being compared to Brett, and everyone looking at them because everyone always looks at Brett, and he shakes his head.

Mason rolls his eyes and he’s a terrible best friend because he still thinks Brett is hot and also because he says, “Brett, over here,” under his breath. A human would never be able to hear it; Brett’s head lifts and he scans the room til he’s locking eyes with them, a smile brightening his face even further. Liam hates how pretty it makes him. 

He waves them over and Mason has definitely forgotten all the times Liam angrily called him to rant about Brett when they were freshmen, because he’s pushing Liam through the crowd of people as Liam fights the urge to drop stubbornly to the ground like an angry toddler. 

“Thought I smelled something good,” Brett says as they enter the circle of other people, bending to brush his nose across Liam’s cheek which. In front of actual werewolves and Mason, that means something. Liam feels himself blush to the roots of his hair. “This is my boyfriend, guys.” Liam tries to hide the fact that he’s panicking slightly and knows he’s not doing a good job, because lying to the idiots at school is one thing but presenting himself as Brett’s boyfriend to his pack is a whole lot of other things that Liam is not prepared to deal with right now.

He lets himself be pulled into Brett’s side, meets the other members of Brett’s pack; Liana, Cody, and Eileen. They’re a bit older, in their twenties, all home from school, and they’re friendly enough, rib Brett like he’s a younger sibling. “You didn’t tell us he was so handsome,” Liana coos, Liam feeling like he’s a moment from getting his cheek pinched. “I see what all the fuss is about.” 

The fuss? What fuss? Liam aims a nonplussed look at Mason, but all he gets is Mason staring at Brett the way he usually stares at complicated math problems; like he knows he’s going to get to the answer eventually.

“They’re just kidding,” Brett hurries to say, but his heart has kicked up a notch. “Um, want to dance?” Liam can only imagine what Mason will do if he says no, so he nods, lets Brett tug him further into the crowd, away from his pack. Mason will be fine, he’s social and he’s dealt with far worse than three friendly werewolves. 

Liam’s the one who should be nervous. He’s seen Brett dance before, how his natural grace transfers beautifully to grinding against whichever attractive person is closest, how he gets close, puts his hands on their stomachs, their thighs. Liam can already picture the look Brett will give, that hooded, dark thing he uses so effectively, and he swallows again, wishes he was drunk. “Hey, so, um, I don’t really-” Brett’s hands are at his waist, pulling him in, the heat of his body and the smell of cherries and Liam _panics_ …

* * *

Five minutes, some flailing, and a lot of apologies later, and Liam is guiding Brett out of Sinema as Brett touches gently at his rapidly healing broken nose. The really annoying part is that it only makes his face roguishly attractive, like he’s some bad boy from the Lana Del Rey videos that Liam has definitely never watched. “I’m sorry I freaked out at the exact moment someone slipped on a spilled drink and pushed me into you,” he says for the third time, biting his lip.

“I’ll heal,” Brett waves away, and Liam would feel bad for leaving Mason in the club if he hadn’t seen Corey walk in as he walked out. Liam wonders what Brett’s pack is thinking, if they saw Liam accidentally break Brett’s nose before hurrying out. He’s fantasized about breaking Brett’s face so many times but the real experience kind of sucked, the gasp of pain and the sickly rust smell of Brett’s blood. Liam’s never seen Brett hurt before; he was very careful not to get hurt in public, and now Liam knows why. It’s hard to explain away obvious wounds that heal instantly. Brett shakes his head a little as his nose returns to normal, blood streaked over his lips and onto his chin. “It’s fine. I’m still pretty, right?” he jokes, and Liam can’t help nodding. 

“You’re always pretty,” he says, not really lying. He gets another of those small, pleased smiles that he’s not used to seeing on Brett’s face. 

“What’d you think of my pack?” Brett asks, like it matters to him what Liam thinks.

“Um. They were nice?” Liam only talked to them for a couple minutes before Brett dragged him away, but they seemed okay. He’s not sure why Brett cares.

He doesn’t realize he’s shivering until Brett is stopping in the middle of the street; it’s late enough that there aren’t any cars out, and they’ve walked about a couple blocks from Sinema without Liam really noticing. He’s not quite sure where they are, actually. 

It’s freezing, though, one of those chilly spring nights that pop in to surprise you. Just Liam’s luck that he left his jacket with Mason. “You’re cold,” Brett says. Of course he doesn’t have to ask, there’s probably some special cold smell that Brett can sense to go along with his shivering.

“No, you’re cold,” Liam snaps, defensive for no real reason as he rubs his hands up and down his arms. 

“Obviously I’m not, or I wouldn’t be doing this.”

“Doing what?” He’s answered by Brett’s hoodie draped across his shoulders. It’s a deep forest green, something that Brett wears a lot, and Liam would be lying if he said he’d never admired it before, because it’s thick and there’s warm fluffy shit on the inside that feels great as Liam shrugs it on. The hem touches the tops of his thighs and the sleeves are too long but he doesn’t really care, crosses his arms over his chest to keep the residual warmth in and beams at Brett. “Thank you!” 

Brett smiles somewhat helplessly, looking comfortable in his long sleeve shirt. “You’re pretty too, you know.” Liam almost stumbles over nothing because...what? What is he supposed to do with that?

“We should get food, I’m hungry,” he says instead of answering, because he’s really not sure what to say. He knows he’s not ugly, but it’s different here on the dim street with Brett still a little flushed from dancing, and Liam would feel like it was just the two of them if he couldn’t hear the dozens of heartbeats in nearby buildings. 

“There’s a 24 hour diner down the street.” Brett starts to wipe the blood away from his face with the inside of his shirt before realizing it’s white and grimacing. “We can go after I figure out how to get this shit off my face.” 

Liam’s shirt is black; he offers to help without thinking of how his clothing will reek of Brett’s blood, the sweet rust scent that the wolf inside him is more interested in than he would like. Brett kneels there in the middle of the street because he’s stupidly tall and Liam wouldn’t be able to reach otherwise. It feels beyond intimate to have Brett there, at his feet with his knees getting wet on the damp pavement, lifting his shirt and knowing Brett can see his stomach, the bumps of his hips. He can feel Brett’s breath and tells himself very sternly not to get hard. “Here, stay still,” he orders, taking the curls on the back of Brett’s head in one fist to hold him still, which isn’t helping on the not getting hard front, lifts his shirt to roughly scrub at Brett’s mouth and chin, until the blood is flaking away and Brett looks like himself again, staring up at Liam with his mouth swollen from the rubbing and Liam almost, almost leans down, if a car wasn’t blaring it’s horn so they have to scramble to get out of the way, Liam pulling his shirt back over his stomach. 

“So, diner?” Brett says after a moment, as they watch the car wind its way down the street. Liam ignores the fact that they’re both breathing harder than they should be.

* * *

The diner is one Liam’s been to a couple times with his mom. He thinks his doctor’s office might be somewhere around here, he’s not sure. He gets an omelet and toast and chocolate milk to soothe the sweet tooth he’s never grown out of. Brett gets a fruit plate and some toast, and Liam would rib him for eating like a housewife on a diet if he didn’t look like...that. 

He’s still wearing Brett’s sweatshirt, a little overwarm now that they’re inside, but he doesn’t take it off. He was kind of nervous, at the start of all this, that they wouldn’t be able to find anything to talk about and they’d end up sitting in silence like Liam did with his first middle school girlfriend, which had ended very badly when Liam had an episode and accidentally broke a window on the bus while she was sitting next to him.

Brett’s chatty, though, and doesn’t seem to think it’s weird when Liam can’t focus entirely on him and starts building a tower out of creamers while listening to Brett talk about Lori’s latest art project. “She’s really talented, you know? Like her teacher wants her to go to art school but she’ll need a lot of scholarships…” He trails off, and Liam realizes that Brett must not have a lot of money. His parents are dead, and Satomi can’t support an entire pack. It’s not like werewolves have magical ways of making money. Well. He could probably punch his way into a bank vault, if he really wanted to, but cameras still exist. Brett not having money explains a lot, like having to earn a scholarship to Devenford, and his beat up car. 

“I remember some of her art, she’ll get scholarships,” Liam says encouragingly, both because he wants to get that look off Brett’s face and because it’s true. Lori is weird, but undeniably talented. And it’s not like Liam has any right to judge weird.

Brett kicks at his leg under the table, gentle, saying thanks and then flicking Li’s creamer tower over so they almost spill across the floor, Liam scrambling to grab them as Brett laughs. But it’s a nice laugh, and he helps Liam rebuild the tower with jam packets as a base, so they’re both laughing when the waitress comes over and puts the food down, carefully avoiding their creation.

* * *

Liam’s inside his room, feeling a strange bubble of happiness inside himself, when he realizes he’s still wearing Brett’s hoodie and never thought to mention it, not when Brett walked him home, or when they stopped at the door, or even when Brett said, “See you tomorrow, baby,” and loped off into the woods instead of down Liam’s driveway, faster and more graceful than any human. He could text Brett, but it’s late and Liam’s tired. So tired, in fact, that he gets in bed without taking the hoodie off and falls asleep, nose pressed to the inside lining.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah boiiiiii we're on some real soft shit now
> 
> did brett have to get on his knees for this? probably not. do i regret anything? definitely not. 
> 
> i was going to make the dancing sexy but then i was like. hm. doesn't seem in character for liam who, when he feels awkward, is based off me and also canonically something of a klutz. so. sorry guys. gotta have accuracy in my werewolf fanfiction


	7. liam, brett just wants to take you ice skating and hold hands, you FOOL

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i feel like such a bad person but i still have no idea where these prompts come from. the first is 'let me help with that' and the second is 'i stole your hoodie and i'm not giving it back'

THEN  
Someone plucks Liam by the collar and pulls him back with ease, into an alcove between the stairs and the girl’s bathroom. Liam looks up, into Brett’s green eyes, and hates himself for noticing how long Brett’s lashes are, the delicate wings of his eyebrows. 

School ends in a couple weeks, Liam already signed up for Beacon Hills instead, ready to play on their lacrosse team. His dad thinks it’ll be a good fit, after everything. Liam’s hopeful, for a fresh start with Mason at his side. He’s hoping to be captain of the lacrosse team, if they’ll let someone as young as he is try out for the position. Liam knows how good he is, knows he at least has a chance. 

“Hey, Dunbar,” Brett breathes, getting too _close_ , into Liam’s space while Liam leans back, not sure what’s happening. He doesn’t much like having people in his space unless he likes them, and Brett certainly isn’t in that category. “I hear you’re leaving us.”

“You don’t even want me here,” Liam says, tipping his head back to stare Brett straight in the eye, because fuck him. Liam’s escaping in a few weeks anyway, Brett can’t do anything to him after that.

Brett’s eyes track unsettlingly over Liam’s mouth before landing on his neck, staying there. Liam swallows and something flashes across Brett’s face as he sways further into Liam, who steps back, feels his elbows pressing against the cool brick of the wall. A teacher walks by, not giving them a second glance; the lacrosse team has brought home more trophies than any other team in the school, with Brett as captain. 

“I don’t know, you’re kind of fun sometimes.” Fun to bully, maybe, Liam the focus of the majority of Brett’s little cruelties. 

“Yeah, sure,” Liam snorts, trying to elbow his way past Brett, who shoves him back against the wall with excess strength, Liam almost knocking his head. 

“Don’t you fucking push me, Dunbar. You’re just a hu-” Brett cuts himself off, shakes his head. “Whatever. You’re lucky I don’t break your pretty face.” He strides off down the hallway, leaving Liam with more questions than he knows what to do with. Brett thinks he’s _pretty?_

* * *

NOW  
A finger plucks at the back of Liam’s hoodie, pinging off a memory he can’t quite grasp as he turns to face Brett, who’s wearing jeans and a tshirt under a flannel rolled up to his wrists, looking unfairly beautiful for someone who probably doesn’t care what he’s wearing. Everything he does is effortless.

“What’re you doing here?” Liam asks, feeling weirdly pleased anyway as he glances around to make sure his boss isn’t around. He managed to get a job working Sundays at the ice rink, when it’s usually empty and he can drive the Zamboni. Scott had gotten all quiet and strange when Liam told him about it.

“Maybe I’m here to ice skate,” Brett answers, folding his arms over his chest and huffing out a breath that spirals off into the air. 

“Really?” Liam eyes Brett’s long limbs with some suspicion; it had been a harsh lesson to him that werewolf grace doesn’t matter on the ice, and he had the momentary bruises to prove it when he tried to skate beyond his prior knowledge.

“No,” Brett admits, smiling with enough self mockery that Liam softens, releases the tense grip he’d had on the hockey stick he was holding. “I was bored, and I came to see my favorite boyfriend.” 

“Fake boyfriend.”

“Right,” Brett says, following Liam to the area where the hockey sticks _should_ be lined up nicely but are instead scattered across the ground, courtesy of last night’s youth hockey game. He sighs, bending to pick them up, shoving the sleeves of the hoodie up to his elbows so they won’t dangle.

“How many boyfriends do you have, anyway?” he asks, hearing the quiet chuckle Brett lets out. 

“Only you,” he says, apparently sincerely, which, considering how easy it is for Brett to get anyone he wants, is pretty flattering. “Here, let me help with that.” Liam throws Brett a small, pleased smile as Brett helps with slotting all the sticks back into place, keeping a constant supernaturally enhanced ear out in case his boss comes back. Mr. Boyd is a quiet man who smells deeply of grief, like dust that lingers over everything, chokes the back of Liam’s throat. He doesn’t want to upset him any further. “So do you know how to ice skate?” 

Liam scoffs, putting the last stick into place and stepping back with satisfaction to look at them, hands on his hips. “Of course I know how to ice skate.” He had played hockey when he was little, under the insistence of his bio dad. Liam never really cared for the sport, but he was okay at it, can still get around alright on a pair of skates. 

“I don’t.” Brett is leaning back against the Plexiglass of the rink, looking at Liam from under his eyelashes. Most people look washed out under the bright lights, but it just brings out the fine bones in Brett’s face, the slight hollows of his cheeks. Liam wonders when Brett stopped being scary and started being beautiful again. Probably when Liam gained the ability to bench press him. “You could teach me.” Liam is lost in thought, hums in response to Brett instead of really answering. “Liam.”

He gives Brett his full attention, able to hear Mr. Boyd shuffling around in his office across the rink. “Yeah?”

“You could teach me to skate, so we could do it. Together.” 

“Why would you want to skate with me?” Liam pictures himself skating while Brett bumbles around, graceless for once. The thought brings a smile to his face. “If I get to take pictures of you when you fall, I’ll do it.” Brett makes an annoyed noise but doesn’t seem too bothered by it, trails Liam back to the rental booth where he has to go over sharpening the skates, careful with them. “Can I regrow a finger if it gets cut off?” he asks, realizing Brett is the perfect person to answer questions like that. 

Liam’s sitting on the counter he usually passes tickets over, legs criss crossed in front of him, Brett leaning into the counter and thus into Liam’s space. He doesn’t mind, Brett’s quiet and he smells good, like usual. Cherries and cut grass and fresh things. 

A curl of hair is tumbling onto his forehead as Brett smiles, runs a finger along the blade of the skate Liam has to sharpen next as if he knows the direction of Liam’s thoughts. “Not quite. But you can reattach it, and it’ll work normally.” 

Liam finds some comfort in that.

“What about my fangs?” He bares his teeth at Brett, receives a fanged smile that’s there and gone in a second in return. Brett is so in control of the shift, has grown up with the wolf under his skin not knowing anything else. It’s harder for people like Liam. 

“What about your fangs?”

Liam’s glad Brett’s here to answer questions; he’s shy around Scott, intimidated by Derek, and doesn’t trust Peter at all. Scott does his best, but he’s away at school and doesn’t really have time for random questions about being a werewolf. “Should I, like, brush them?” 

Brett laughs, not unkindly, touches a finger to his bottom teeth, which are pearly white, grows his canines out. They match. Liam is not looking at where Brett’s finger sinks into the plush of his lower lip, except for how he very much is. “I don’t think so. I never have, anyway.” Brett’s leaning into his space, smiling. Liam used to be kind of nervous about touch, but he’s gotten used to it after he was turned. He basically has to; Malia insists on wrapping him up in a hug and sniffing at his neck every time she sees him. 

Finished with the skates, Liam rests his elbows on his knees, having nothing else to do. He spends a lot of time here playing Candy Crush. “I guess I can teach you how to skate now,” he offers, Brett’s face lighting up with it. “I’ll just tell Mr. Boyd you’re a client.” Mr. Boyd won’t mind, not with all the work finished. He rents out a pair of skates to Brett, who is even more ludicrously tall with them on, and walks him carefully to the ice. “You’ve just got to kind of...slide your feet, okay?” he warns, passing Brett off onto the ice and watching as he shuffles forward. 

It’s difficult not to make fun of him, how he’s hunched and lurching forward, but Liam won’t mock him. For now. Brett manages to spin around and beam at him, arms wide at his sides. “See, Liam? Not that hard.” A moment later, Brett’s feet shoot out from under him and he’s sprawled on the ice, breath knocked out of him. Liam erupts into peals of laughter that Brett joins a second later.

* * *

Brett stays til the end of Liam’s shift, which is way more fun than Liam would’ve expected it to be even a couple weeks ago, when he still mostly hated Brett. They talk about school, and weird pack politics, and Lori’s latest art project. She’s doing something with sheep wool and cut up soda cans. Liam wonders if Brett knows his sister is totally bizarre, can’t tell from the way he talks about her; mostly fond, a bit of pride threading through his voice. Liam’s an only child and thinks it’s nice how much Brett loves her. 

“And she was telling me the vision she had for it,” Brett is saying as they head outside, to where Liam’s mom is waiting in her car. He can practically scent her irritation with Brett from here as Brett kisses the top of his head, rubs his cheek once against Liam’s hair.

“I’m not giving your hoodie back,” Liam announces, pulling the sleeves up past the tips of his fingers. He’s been wearing it all day for...reasons. Brett takes part of the hood between his thumb and forefinger, tugs it up and over Liam’s head to protect him from the rain that’s beginning to fall, lightly misting Brett’s face like he’s a dehydrated model at a photoshoot. People shouldn’t be allowed to be as beautiful as Brett is, it’s insane. 

“That’s fine, you look cute in it.” Liam gapes unattractively at him; Brett releases his hoodie, waves to Liam’s mom, and lopes off into the distance, slow enough that Liam’s mom probably won’t notice anything wrong. 

He pulls the hoodie tighter around himself as he makes his way to the car, where his mom is watching Brett’s receding outline. “Does your...boyfriend, need a ride too?” she asks, Liam running a hand through his wet hair and grinning a little. It’s not the boyfriend part she hesitated over, it’s the Brett part. 

“I think he’s fine.” Brett thrives outdoors, they all do. 

She backs out of the parking lot in silence, Liam waiting for the outpouring of words and he isn’t disappointed. “I just don’t get why you’re talking to him,” she says as they pull onto the highway. Liam’s leg starts to jiggle, unbalancing his phone so he has to catch it with one hand. 

It lights up with three texts from Mason, about how his weird extended family is visiting, one from Theo about picking him up from practice tomorrow, two from Corey about their science project due next week, and one from Brett. He’s safe home, sent a Snapchat along with the text of him shaking his wet hair out of his face, grinning in front of Satomi’s unimpressed face. Liam smiles on reflex, shrugs in response to his mom. “He’s better now.” 

“Liam, I remember your freshman year,” she says, and it makes something in him ache to be able to smell the tears she thinks she can hide. All over a relationship that’s not even real. His mom loves him so much he’s sometimes humbled by it, feels like she pours all of her care and concern into him and he’s not always sure he’s worthy. 

“I’m being careful, Mom. It’s okay.” As soon as he has his half of the $600, it’ll be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anyone remember vernon boyd :)  
> this is just to remind everyone that his parents lost not one but 2 children. so there's my angst for today because boyd's death was BULLSHIT


	8. brett is sad, which i know all u sickos will get a kick out of

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm procrastinating on my other, long fic because the /responsibility/ so enjoy brett being whipped (like emotionally not physically, although...) and also the two of them creeping further into realization of the truth  
> plus liam gets a slurpee :)  
> can't resist my werewolf trope jokes
> 
> Prompts are:  
> "Lay your head in my lap and try to get some rest."  
> "Please stay with me tonight, I don't want to be alone."  
> "Hey! I've got something for you! Wait right here!"  
> "Is this a gift for me?"

Liam shakes awake with the knowledge that someone is _in his room_ , and they’re watching him, and he’s about to get hurt very, very badly. 

He scrambles for his light, tugs so hard that the lamp tips over and he hears it shatter, so he’s in the dark and there’s a scream building in his throat as he sees the hulking form of a Beserker beginning to rise from the floor. Liam raises a clawed hand. Someone takes it and shoves it aside, and he turns his frantically flared eyes to see Brett, who’s beginning to come fully awake as he blinks up at Liam from where he must’ve been napping on the floor, leaning against Liam’s bed. 

They’ve been studying at Liam’s house for the past couple weeks, which was initially bizarre, and his parents aren’t huge fans of it, but Brett’s been nice the whole time and his mom actually smiled at Brett the other day when he left, which is an improvement. 

Liam stares at him, feeling his pulse in his ears, unable to breathe right. Brett’s hand is tight around his wrist, thumb over his pulse. 

“I…” 

“We fell asleep, Liam, it’s fine.” Liam can’t relax, can’t stop feeling claws in his gut, iron in the back of his throat. “It was just a nightmare.”

“But it _happened_ ,” he whispers hoarsely. The Beserkers almost killed them all. Tears are pricking at his eyes but he’ll die before he ever cries in front of Brett, who’s still holding his wrist, thumb stroking feather soft over his skin. Liam knows there’s a stupid look of fear on his face, and he’s starting to realize that he’s being weak in front of _Brett_ , which still isn’t okay on some level. 

“You’re safe now, though.” 

He pulls his wrist away, back to his chest, focuses on his surroundings, his bed and the sound of his mom downstairs, touches his tongue to the back of his teeth. “Right. I know.” It’s harder than usual to tuck the shift back into his skin. Liam has to fold his claws against his palms.

“Lay your head in my lap and try to get some rest,” Brett says, indicating himself. 

Liam jerks up from bed, looking from Brett’s face to his lap, trying not to linger. “ _What_ ,” he says flatly.

“It was worth a try.” Brett presses him back down, gentle but firm, thankfully onto a pillow and not his lap. Liam wouldn’t want that. He thinks. Brett is chuckling to himself. 

For a couple minutes Liam stares at the ceiling, takes in deep breaths that mostly smell of lingering terror and Brett, who seems content with twisting to watch him, crosses his forearms on Liam’s bed, resting his chin on them.

“I can’t believe you fell asleep, too. Don’t you sleep at your place?” Liam teases weakly, no real malice behind it. He just wants to feel normal again.

Brett’s expression shutters, though, something crossing behind his eyes that Liam hasn’t seen before. “I do,” he says, examining the threads in Liam’s sheets, not looking at him. “Sometimes.” Liam is about to question him on what the hell that’s all about, and he thinks Brett might even answer, except Liam’s mom is calling him down for dinner, and Liam realizes he hasn’t eaten since after practice. Those questions can wait.

* * *

“Oh, your...boyfriend...is still here,” Liam’s mom says, poorly concealing her dismay. “I thought he left, it was so quiet.” 

“We fell asleep,” Liam says cheerfully, plucking a carrot off the plate in her hands and taking a bite, grinning at her. “Is it okay if he stays?”

“I can leave,” Brett offers, although he’s examining the plate of food Liam’s mom is holding with visible longing. 

Liam’s mom has never been very good at carrying a grudge. Neither has Liam himself, for that matter. “No, it’s fine, you can stay,” she says, hurrying to the kitchen to grab another plate. 

“Where’s your dad?” Brett asks as they sit at the table, Brett across from him. He’s about as tall sitting down as Liam’s mom is standing up, which is funny to see as she walks past him, settling in her usual spot at the head of the table. 

“He’s working,” Liam answers, grabbing the mashed potatoes and passing his mom the roast pork. “But usually he eats with us.”

“What does your family do for dinner, Brett?” his mom asks, clearly deciding to be nice and make the best of it. Brett can probably smell everything she’s feeling, so it doesn’t really matter. 

“We don’t eat together, usually. There’s too many of us.” At her curious look, he explains, “I live in a...foster home, of sorts.” Liam sees his mother’s face soften with immediate sympathy. Brett couldn’t have said anything more likely to earn her favor if he tried, and he’s not really lying, either. Liam just never thought of it that way. Of course Brett must live with his pack, all of them together under Satomi. 

“Liam didn’t tell me,” his mom says, before changing the subject. For the rest of dinner, though, she’s noticeably kinder to Brett. Liam doesn’t spend time wondering why that makes him feel so relieved.

* * *

There’s something weird and tight in the line of Brett’s shoulders as they head upstairs after dinner, and Liam doesn’t know what the emotion of the scent he’s catching is. It’s not pleasant, is all he knows, only getting worse as Brett gathers his books from the floor, hikes his backpack over his shoulder. 

They stand there for a moment, a muscle moving in Brett’s jaw, before Liam blurts, “Please stay with me tonight. Um. I don’t want to be alone.” Which isn’t really true, but isn’t _untrue_ , either, enough so that Brett probably won’t catch the lie. And he doesn’t seem to be trying to, a vulnerable look on his face that Liam’s never seen before. The unpleasant scent disappears immediately. 

“That nightmare really upset you, huh?” Brett says, frowning. “And you want _me_ around?” 

Liam nods. Brett seems doubtful, but he’s finally smiling a little, dropping his bag to the ground. Liam doesn’t bother answering his last question, because he sees Brett almost every day at this point and only occasionally feels the old pangs of resentment. “It’s Friday, anyway,” he says. “No school tomorrow.” 

“Your parents don’t have a problem with your _boyfriend_ staying over? What if I try and do dirty things to you?” Brett asks, a teasing lilt to his voice. It doesn’t seem so funny when they’re alone in Liam’s room, Brett’s eyes scanning Liam’s body. Liam feels himself turn red from the top of his head to his chest, which Brett seems delighted by. “You _blush?_ That’s adorable.”

“Whatever. And they won’t care, it’s not like you can get me pregnant,” he grumbles, heading to his closet to get the air mattress Mason usually uses out. The smile falls off Brett's face. 

“Um, Liam, that can happen, with werewolves.” 

“ _What?!_ ” He freezes in the act of opening his closet door, whipping around to face Brett. “But I looked it up and the Internet says-”

Brett dissolves into laughter. “Jesus, Liam, your _face_. I was just kidding.” Liam tosses a pillow at him, but he’s smiling, too.

* * *

Later, when they’re half asleep, Brett stretched out awkwardly on the too short air mattress, Liam realizes he should probably be more uncomfortable with this. A voice at the far reaches of his consciousness is whispering _Remember what he did to you?_ All Liam can see, though, is the way Brett’s face is only now beginning to relax; Liam hadn’t realized that he must have his jaw clenched all the time, saw his hooded, lazy eyes and assumed it applied to the rest of him. He used to be so arrogant, so unkind, and Liam is wondering what changed. He can’t see Brett bullying him now, even if they were strangers again. 

“You’re staring,” Brett murmurs, eyes never opening. “I know I’m gorgeous, but have some self-respect, Dunbar. You can drool over me when I’m awake.” 

“There’s nothing worth drooling over,” Liam snaps, and Brett sniffs the air, grinning. 

“You’re blushing again, aren’t you? Cute.” Liam takes back all the nice things he ever thought about Brett.

* * *

In the morning, Liam wakes up having rolled over in the night, on his stomach at the side of his bed, where Brett is sleeping turned away. Liam’s arm is dangling off the mattress, and his fingers are touching the barest edge of Brett’s golden curls, like he was reaching for Brett in his sleep. Liam curls his fingers into a fist, and pulls his hand away.

* * *

Liam is trailing to the cafeteria from Math, thinking mostly about lacrosse, and whether Theo or Mason will bring him home after, when he smells someone familiar who doesn’t belong there, turns his head to catch the scent. It’s Brett, not wearing his Devenford Prep uniform today but is instead in joggers and a cutoff t-shirt, plus a snapback because apparently he’s decided to sink fully into the fuckboy look. Liam can practically hear his classmates salivating, and takes some time to be smug about it as he hurries down the school walkway to Brett, a smile splitting his face. 

“Hey!” he calls out when he’s halfway down, waving. 

“Hey! I’ve got something for you! Wait right here!” 

Liam watches, bemused, as Brett jogs back to his car and returns with a smile and a blue Slurpee. Liam’s not sure which one is more beautiful, feels himself beaming even wider. “Is this a gift for me?”

“Yeah, of course.” Brett’s smiling down at him, resting a hip on one of the rails that line the school walkway. “Anything for my boyfriend.” 

For once, Liam doesn’t remind him it’s fake, takes a sip of his Slurpee instead, finally fully processing that Brett’s in normal clothes on a school day. “Thanks. Why aren’t you dressed?” 

Brett looks down at himself, tugs the shirt away from his chest. It exposes his ribs, the sides of his pecs. Liam allows himself to look his fill, regretting, not for the first time, that Brett isn’t actually into him. “I mean, I’m dressed, Liam, but if you meant why I’m not wearing the uniform, it’s cause we have the day off. Conferences.”

Liam makes a face at his teasing, too grateful to even pretend he’s mad. “You didn’t have to take time on your day off just to grab me food.” Brett’s fiddling with the strings of his joggers, distracted, his shirt shifting to expose a sliver of his abs. Liam takes a very long sip of his Slurpee. 

“It’s fine, I didn’t want to be home anyway.” Again with that unpleasant smell, Liam wrinkling his nose against it.

“Why not?”

“S’like a graveyard,” Brett mutters before he’s brushing it away, tilting his head. “Mason’s looking for you.” 

Liam’s jealous sometimes, of how casual Brett is about everything. He’s never known anything but being a werewolf, so it comes easily to him. Liam has to focus his hearing to realize that yes, Mason is coming closer, grumbling to himself about the Debate Club and Liam’s habit of running off. 

“We usually have lunch together, cause Corey’s in a different period,” he explains, half apologetic. 

“It’s fine, I’ll text you later.” Brett darts in for a kiss, pulls back after digging his knuckles into the back of Liam’s neck, Liam shivering under the touch and still a little dumbfounded by the feel of Brett’s mouth on his. 

“Right, of course,” he breathes, head still tipped back, Brett’s eyes tracking over his face before he leans in for another kiss, softer and longer this time, nipping once at the swell of Liam’s bottom lip. He sighs into it, touches his first two fingers lightly to Brett’s hip. “What was that for?” he asks when Brett pulls back, knows his cheeks are pink. 

“Cause you’re pretty, Dunbar.” Brett’s heading back to his car before Liam can summon up an answer, which is good because he’s pretty sure he doesn’t have one.

* * *

“Where’d you get that?” Liam glances up at Mason, releases the straw from his mouth. He’s halfway done with his blue Slurpee. 

“Brett,” he says, shuffling aside so Mason can join him on one of the benches outside the school. There’s a couple minutes left before lunch is over, and they’re seniors. It’s expected they’ll be late.

“He brought you a Slurpee?” 

Liam shrugs. “I told him I wanted one.” Brett’s been really nice to Liam since he freaked out the other night.

“You told him you wanted a Slurpee and he drove all the way here just to drop one off?”

Liam takes another long, satisfying sip, smacks his lips. “Yep.”

Mason has that look on his face again, like he’s close to figuring out a really complicated problem. “Interesting,” is all he says, stealing Liam’s Slurpee and taking a sip against Liam’s mild protests.

“We’re friends now.” 

“Is that what you are,” Mason says, being cryptic.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Nothing, Liam. Let’s get to class.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you take in the circumstances of brett's life it's actually like REALLY fucked up, like where are his parents? and half his pack died? and he had to learn lacrosse to get his sister into a good high school so at the age of like 13 he was already taking full responsibility for her future? 
> 
> whenever are they going to talk about the bullying....and the resentment that liam still feels for him....and the fact that brett was a cruel bastard and still hasn't apologized...  
> inchteresting....


	9. teen wolf can tear my focus on character development from my grasping nerd hands

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i didn't abandon you guys, don't worry. i just focused on my other story for a lil bit. here's me actually moving the story forward and having stuff happen and not forgetting that brett used to be a huge dick
> 
> Prompt in this chapter was "I'm on your side."

_Then_  
“This is what happens when you lose, Liam,” Brett snarls, his eyes almost shining in the dark, Liam so bewildered by it that he actually uncurls a little and is whacked thoroughly in the chin by a lacrosse ball, the impact sending his head splitting against the ground and he yelps, flinches away from another barrage as Brett laughs, leaning against his lacrosse stick.

“ _Please_ ,” Liam whispers, the sound barely trailing from his mouth so it’s impossible for Brett to have heard it, except for how his grin turns even nastier.

“Beg all you like, Liam. This is just the beginning if you keep being a fucking _loser_ ,” and Liam has to swallow his sob down, can’t feel the anger just fear as Brett’s eyes flash _yellow_ and he’s not going to cry he’s _not_ …

* * *

_Now_  
Liam is fully shifted when he tears back into awareness, jolting up in bed with a snarl and his hands reaching out, clawed, his eyes locking onto his terrified mother. She’s in the doorway, heartbeat ratcheting up to terror, the bitter scent of her fear already reaching him. “Liam. I-I heard you talking in your sleep, I got worried, I-” She raises a trembling hand to her mouth as he tries to get up and reach for her, but she frantically stumbles back into the hallway and seeing his mom afraid of him is enough to pull the shift away, Liam babbling apologies that don’t mean anything. “What are you?” she cries, and Liam can’t face her like this, helpless, so he makes a canine sound of distress and runs away, out his open window and into the dark streets beyond. The rain plasters his hair to his head in an instant, trickling down his naked chest and into the sweatpants he wore to bed, his bare feet slapping against the pavement as he runs blindly into town.

* * *

Everyone is at college and Mason is too far away; Liam finds himself heading for Brett, instead, was close enough with Brett before everything that he knows the general location of Brett’s home, even if he’s never been there.

The house is more of a complex, sprawled across an acre of land that brushes the edges of the Preserve, leaving plenty of space for wolves to run when they need to. Liam bangs on the door once, is met with Lori, who he hasn’t seen since she almost died. She goggles at him for a moment, pushes a curl of blond hair away from her face as she visibly scents him before wrinkling her nose. There’s blue paint smeared across her cheek. “You smell sad,” she says finally, motioning Liam inside as she turns her head and yells, “Brett! Your boyfriend’s here!” 

Liam is too miserable to even argue with her about that, hangs his head as a few people pop their heads into the hallway before turning away, uninterested. Liam wonders where Satomi is.

The complex seems to be built around a hallway with a series of doors that must branch off into other rooms. It's only a couple seconds before Brett emerges from one of them, looking sleepy and disheveled, pulling a fuzzy red sweater over his head to cover the boxers he’s wearing. “Liam? What’re you doing here?” he yawns, elbowing Lori aside with a murmured, “Go back to bed.” She makes a face at him but disappears into the nearest doorway, Liam able to hear the sound of her rummaging through something moments later. Liam looks up at him, aware of how big and wet his eyes are as a droplet of water trails down the side of his face. Brett tracks it down to his chest, seeming to take in Liam’s general aura of misery, his face creasing with concern. “What happened?” Liam shivers violently, only now realizing that he’s wet and the wind is blowing on him through the open door until Brett takes him by the arm and pulls him further inside, shutting the door and guiding Liam gently down the hallway until they reach the door he originally came out of. 

“My mom found out,” he says as Brett lets him in, into a small room with a single bed and Brett’s scent layered over everything, his lacrosse gear piled in one corner, school books haphazardly balanced on the edge of his dresser, pieces of Lori’s art taped over the eggshell white of the walls. A box of medals and trophies carelessly stacked on each other is crammed under Brett’s bed. “About me.” 

The numbness is beginning to fade from his thoughts, replaced by memories of exactly what he was dreaming about as he stares at the familiar Devenford colors, the shirt Brett was wearing when he pelted Liam with lacrosse balls. Liam feels his claws wanting to unsheath and clenches his fists, taking a deep breath but only able to smell Brett, stares at the vulnerable back of his head as he goes through his dresser and Liam tries to anchor himself but he doesn’t _have one_ , not since Hayden left. 

“How?” Brett turns around, wary now, his nostrils flaring as the hot scent of Liam’s rising anger fills the room. 

“I was dreaming about the zoo,” Liam says lowly, closing his eyes once, knowing they’re flared when he opens them but unable to stop it.

“Liam, I was an asshole to you. I’m sorry,” Brett says carefully, holding his hands out like Liam is a fucking nervous animal that needs to be calmed.

“You weren’t just an asshole, you were a _bully_.” Liam feels anger flash hotly under his skin, remembering being scared every day, pretending to be sick so he wouldn’t have to go to school, seething alone in the bathrooms while Mason tried to calm him down through text. Liam hadn't even been scared about them hurting him; he’d been scared about having an episode and doing something worse than punching a wall. “I was just a _freshman_.” 

So was Brett, but Liam can’t imagine him ever having been unpopular like that. 

“Liam, I didn’t mean to-” Brett starts, backing up against his door and Liam realizes Brett is afraid of him, that Liam’s stronger than him now and the guilt that causes turns back into anger, Liam advancing on him, flicking his hands open at his sides as his claws emerge fully. 

“It was _your fault_. I was dreaming about _you!_ ” Liam seethes, feeling the anger claw its way out of his control. He takes Brett by the front of his shirt, shoves him back against his door and has to tip his head back to hold Brett’s wide eyes, can hear Brett’s heart racing against the backs of his fingers. His lips pull back over his teeth, Liam growling deep in his throat, the wolf in him knowing that Brett isn’t as strong, hasn’t fought hunters and Beserkers and more. Anger is starting to turn his vision red. “I should fucking _ruin you_ ,” he snarls, having to talk around his fangs. “Just like you ruined my fucking life, _again_.” A distant voice in his head that actually sounds kind of like Theo is warning him that if he doesn’t calm down, _soon_ , he’s going to do something he’ll really regret.

Brett blinks down at him, eyes still green, unthreatening even though he’s so tall. The smell of fear is a stark contrast to his usual cherries and cut grass scent that Liam’s become used to. It’s actually, weirdly, calming Liam down a little. He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath in through his nose, and tugs until Brett is forced to slump some and Liam can get to his tiptoes, put his face to the hollow of Brett’s throat where his scent is strong. He noses up along Brett’s throat, has him tip his head back and the wolf in Liam is hotly satisfied as Brett swallows and allows Liam to press their bodies together, his wet bare chest against Brett’s sweater, all the tension flowing from Liam’s body as he slumps into Brett, whose arms come up and around him. Liam tucks the shift back into his skin, goes back to flat feet so his face is somewhere in the vicinity of Brett’s pectorals. 

“Liam?” Brett says after a second, confused now, his heart calming down. 

“I think you might be my anchor,” Liam says, the fabric of the sweater tickling his mouth. “How fucked up is that?” 

Brett moves him back some, and Liam’s suddenly exhausted, realizing it’s two in the morning and his whole life is changing, again. He yawns, shuddering with it. “We should talk,” Brett says, his eyes flicking to Liam’s chest and away. “But, um, can you put some clothes on first?” Liam nods, accepts the shorts and hoodie that Brett had already pulled from his dresser, both of which are ludicrously big on him. They smell good though. When he’s done changing and Brett looks at him, there’s a hot note to his scent that Liam doesn’t know the source of but wishes he could get more of, wants to press his nose to Brett’s throat again. They settle at opposite sides of Brett’s tiny bed, Liam pulling his knees into his chest so the hoodie gapes open at the shoulder, Brett’s eyes settling there. “I changed a lot, Liam,” he says finally, which is something of an understatement.

“Why?” 

Brett shrugs, looking small and sad and tired. “I almost died. Most of my pack _did_ die, Liam. That changes things.” And now Liam knows what that awful scent is. Grief. “I thought I was invincible. I thought humans were weak because they get hurt so easily, and nothing I did to them mattered, and then…” He trails off, shrugging. “I was becoming the kind of supernatural that hunters should kill.”

Liam thinks of Brett with black blood dripping down his chin, the resigned look in his eyes just before he and Lori almost died, and knows his face is twisting. “Not anymore,” he says, firm and sure. 

“No,” Brett agrees. “I grew up, and Satomi told me to stop being an asshole.” 

“Is that really what she said?” Liam asks, unable to imagine tiny, reserved Satomi swearing, and Brett finally cracks a smile. Liam is overwhelmingly relieved by it.

“Okay, no, she said something wise and cutting in Japanese, but it had the same impact.” 

“I’m sorry I almost hurt you,” Liam says, uncurling so his foot is next to Brett’s thigh, Brett wrapping a warm hand around his ankle. 

“I deserved it.” Liam shrugs, because he kind of did, at one point, but losing control is never a good thing. Liam doesn't want to hurt Brett anymore. “Am I really your anchor?” Liam is reflexively expecting to be teased, but Brett’s face is soft and open, his scent back to the cherries and grass that Liam finds himself wanting to sink into. He’s starting to realize he might be kind of screwed. This whole fake dating thing is starting to feel very real. 

“Yeah. I guess I didn’t realize it until I needed you.” 

“I’ve never been anyone’s anchor before.” Brett ducks his head, uncharacteristically shy, and they both grin at each other like fools for a couple minutes until Liam remembers he has to go back and explain to his mom that her son is a werewolf. 

“I need to go home. My mom...” 

“I’ll come with you,” Brett decides, getting up as Liam does, grabbing a pair of sweats from his dresser and pulling them on while he searches for his shoes. 

“You don’t have to,” Liam protests, although he’s secretly relieved.

Brett’s in the process of pulling his shoes on when he locks eyes with Liam and says, “Don’t be ridiculous, Liam. I’m on your side.” Liam can’t even try to hide how he lights up.

* * *

All the lights in his house are on when they get there, Liam able to see his mother in the living room, slumped on the couch with a glass of wine. She’s been crying, he can tell even through the window. It’s only now that he realizes he forgot his phone, feels even more guilt curdle in his stomach. Just another time he’s fucked up his mom’s life.

Brett touches his back, between his shoulder blades, trying to ground him. It works. Liam straightens, opens the door as he calls out, “Mom? I’m home.” 

She flies out of the living room and into his arms, Liam staggering back with a surprised oof as she tucks her face into his shoulder, smelling of fear and shame and concern. His hands rise in shock as he looks to Brett, who makes a sort of _I don’t know_ face. “I thought-I didn’t-You were-” She finally pulls away, cupping his face between her hands. Her eyes are red from crying and Liam makes a helpless noise, feeling tears in his own. 

“I’m not a monster, Mom,” he whispers, and she shakes her head. 

“You could never be a monster. I never thought that.” He whines in the back of his throat and goes back to her, wrapping her up tight and weeping into the crown of her head, letting her scratch soothingly at the nape of his neck until he’s calmed down. “But you are...something. Right?” she says, more to Brett at this point than Liam.

“We’re werewolves,” Brett explains, sounding calm and cool as he usually does, a little bored. Liam knows better by now. “I was born as one, and Liam was bitten a couple years ago, by accident. There are actually a lot of-” He cuts himself off, heart beginning to race, and Liam pulls away from his mom. “There’s someone outside,” Brett hisses, shoving them further into the house. “They have wolfsbane.”

Liam focuses, can hear three heartbeats and the telltale smell of a wolfsbane bullet, takes his mother by the upper arms. “Mom, what did you do?” he asks, betrayal breaking his heart until she says, “I just-I called your father at the hospital, I had to tell him that you had _fangs_ all of a sudden, but he wasn’t in so I left a message, I was halfway hysterical, I must have sounded insane talking about glowing eyes.”

“Who did you tell?”

“I…” 

“ _Mom! Who did you tell?_ ” Liam asks, knowing that Scott is away at school and Brett’s pack won’t be here in time.

“One of the receptionists, Doria.” Someone who clearly hasn’t forgotten what happened with the Anuk Ite. 

Liam turns to Brett, both of their eyes flaring yellow as they meet, until Brett nods. “We’ve fought off worse,” Liam tries to joke, knows it’s fallen flat when Brett just stares. “Mom, go hide in the basement and don’t come out until we get you, okay?”

“But, Liam, what’re you going to do?”

He turns to his mom, feeling helpless, says, “Mom. I’ve done this before,” as realization and horror crawl over her face. She nods, lips tightening, and Liam turns to face the doorway, shoulders knocking with Brett as the hunters get closer, the first one raising his gun to point at Brett. Liam roars a challenge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> do u guys like this cliffhanger? :P  
> brett and Liam are both like 'heart eyes motherfucker' at each other but they'll get there eventually, i promise. soon, actually


	10. chicken soup for the dumbass teenage werewolf soul

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm back! sorry about the long wait...and the cliffhanger...but i love you guys....pls forgive me. here's some hurt/comfort :)

Liam was terrified of sharks as a child. Something about the cold certainty in their eyes, the thought of being prey to something that didn’t see him as much more than meat. He’d gotten over that fear when his mom brought him to an aquarium, showed him the sharks swaying gently in their tanks, always moving, mostly harmless. She had, probably wisely, taken him to see the seals when it was feeding time.

Liam thought he was over that fear, after getting over the Berserkers, but something like it uncoils in his chest as he meets the blank stare of a hunter through his window; the man wears the hard expression of someone doing a job he doesn’t particularly enjoy. Liam’s almost offended by it. Before the pack hunted her down, Monroe was their biggest threat and at least she was passionate about killing them. 

When Liam was human, the biggest threat to him was Brett, kind of ironic now that Brett’s standing at his back near the window, eyes flared yellow and a snarl on his face. “Liam…” he starts, taking Liam by the bicep with fingers that seem to burn; Liam throws a quick glance back at him, startled, and he’ll never know what Brett was going to say because that’s the moment the hunter steps onto Liam’s porch, Liam’s claws curling against his palm because this is _his_ house, _his_ family, the one place he should be allowed to feel safe. Neither of his parents have a part in this. 

Liam can hear the fluttering pound of his mother’s heartbeat downstairs and meets the hunter’s stare with a growl, wrenches his door open before the hunter can kick it down. There are maybe four heartbeats in the area that belong to an enemy, Liam still doesn’t fully understand his senses but he trusts Brett to have his back.

Looking at Brett, his face fully shifted for the first time in Liam’s memory, is jarring somehow, the gorgeous regularity of Brett’s face reduced to something more bestial. Which Liam should be used to by now, but he’s never seen it on Brett’s face before. 

He shakes the thought away and steps onto his porch, narrowly dodging the knife the first hunter tries driving into his eye. Liam is depressingly aware that he’s only eighteen and grew up fighting nothing more threatening than rival lacrosse teams. 

“Stay away from my fucking house,” he snarls, mindful of Brett to his left, Brett’s clawed fingers wrapped around another hunter’s neck, hefting him off the ground and Liam hasn’t thought of Brett as a dangerous force in ages, not since the bite. He forgot the ferocity Brett can bring when pushed, as Brett hurls his hunter in the direction of the only one still standing, bowling him over, teetering on the curb til he falls into the road with a yelp and the tell-tale crack of splintered bone as his wrist takes the brunt of his fall. “We haven’t hurt _anyone_ ,” Liam yells in his own hunter’s face, claws ripping the man’s flannel collar; the scent of fear and wolfsbane fills the air, mixed with acrid, unhealthy sweat. This guy eats a _lot_ of garlic. 

“You’re monsters; it’s just a matter of time,” the guy wheezes, Liam half torn by the urge to shove him away with disgust, feeling those old worries of losing control touch lightly at the core animal parts of him. 

“You all say that,” Brett cuts in, holding one hunter by the scruff of his neck while the other lies on the pavement still wailing. Liam is very glad he lives tucked back in the woods, semi-isolated from curious neighbors. “But I’ve never killed anyone, you can see it in my eyes.” He gestures at the golden flare of his eyes, at Liam as he blinks the shift away. “ _You_ guys are the ones who can hide being killers.” An argument Liam has tried with various hunters over the years that never seems to work; these hunters ignore them, too, so Liam knocks them out and calls the Sheriff. 

He’s rounding the corner of his house after making the call, tucking his phone back into his pocket and swearing when he misses, stooping to pick it up off the dewey wet ground, when he realizes there’s another heartbeat unaccounted for and jerks to attention just in time to watch the guy spring out of the bushes and punch Brett in the face, sending him staggering backwards, almost falling. 

The hunter pulls a knife the length of Liam’s fucking _forearm_ , elbows Brett in the face as he tries to regain his feet, and Liam hasn’t moved this fast in his _life_ , vaulting the prone bodies of the other hunters to headbutt the hunter in the stomach, pulling his claws back just in time so he shreds the man’s shirt and not his stomach, ending him with an uppercut to the chin that probably comes dangerously close to killing him but Liam’s unconcerned as he turns to Brett, who has sunk to one knee with a hand over his face, blood dripping between his fingers. Liam hurries to him, fingers skimming over his wrists, his shoulders, touching once at his golden curls. 

“Are you okay? Did he cut you?” Brett asks, as if _Liam’s_ the one hunched over and bleeding. 

“I’m fine, let me see your face.”

Pulling Brett’s hands away from his face reveals a swollen, broken nose, Brett grimacing under it. “M’fine,” he sniffs, snotty and gross but Liam is relieved enough to smile. 

“We’re gonna have to keep ice on that.” 

Brett squints at him through black eyes. “I...Liam. We’re werewolves.” His face is already healing, nose shrinking to normal size, Liam smearing the blood across his cheek with a thumb. 

“Oh! Right.” He still isn’t used to it, sometimes. Brett is smirking, but it’s fond, his hand coming up to grab Liam’s hip, slipping under his shirt to touch skin and Liam’s breath catches, the moment spun out until they turn their heads to the sound of sirens in the distance; the Sheriff has arrived. Liam helps Brett to his feet instead of doing...something unwise.

* * *

After the Sheriff leaves, they head back inside his house. Liam can hear the anxious catch in his Mom’s breathing even as he climbs the steps of his porch, realizing his shoe has a blood splatter on it, stepping gingerly through the door frame with Brett pressed close to his back, breath ruffling the crown of Liam’s head. Liam doesn’t feel the usual urge to elbow him away, giving himself some space, instead reaches back to squeeze Brett’s arm. Warm, a little sweaty, but not unpleasant, Brett twisting his wrist to take Liam’s hand.

Liam curls his fingers against Brett’s palm, feeling small, not displeased by it, and takes the dusty basement steps to where his mom is sitting on the washing machine, clutching an old lacrosse stick of Liam’s with a determined glare that melts into relief and concern when she sees them, both unharmed despite the blood drying into flakes on Brett’s face. “Are you...Are you okay?”

He almost laughs, a small sick noise because they’re always going to be _okay_ , physically. Liam isn’t sure what could kill them besides, like, wolfsbane and being cut in half. 

“Yeah, we’re okay.”

“Okay.” It’s a soft, whispered thing, her face blank and Liam _knows_ his mom, knows to reach for her the moment before she takes a deep, shaky breath that hiccups into a sob. She feels tiny in his arms, she always does, and Liam rounds his body around hers, nose in the pinned up, unruly curls of her bun, smelling pencil shavings and the peach perfume she gets from Target, still trying to swallow down the fury of knowing they tried to attack his _mom_ , who hasn’t done anything worse than get snippy with the neighbors over zoning issues. 

She doesn’t like crying in front of people who aren’t family, so it’s only a couple minutes until she’s pulling back, wiping at the smeared mascara under her eyes as she asks, “How bad do I look?” and laughs wetly when Liam makes a face. 

“You’re beautiful, Mom,” he says, being honest, ignoring the soft look Brett gives him and feeling a little guilty at the faint, bitter grief suffusing his scent. It’s been years since Brett could talk to his own mom. 

“And you’re...a werewolf.” She pulls back, away from him, and sits on the washer again. Her feet dangle.

Liam surreptitiously slips his bloodstained shoes off, kicks them away. “Yes.” He feels Brett come up, at his back, and leans into him, just a little. 

“So Brett is part of...your pack? And that’s why you spend so much time with him?” She sounds almost hopeful; she never really got over that little grudge.

“Um. No. Scott’s part of my pack, and Malia, and Stiles, and a couple others…” He hesitates, unsure how to explain people like Kira, who aren’t here anymore, or Derek, who wanders, or even Theo, who’s pack but not, mostly because he’s too stubborn and anti-social to hang out with them. It will take a _long_ time to explain Theo. “Mason, too.”

“Oh!” She brightens, moderately relieved; she likes Mason, most people do. Liam’s impressed she had the concept of pack at the top of her head, although she was always into fantasy and horror stuff. Now it’s a part of their lives. 

“Brett’s just my boyfriend.” A statement that feels more true at this moment than it has before, after confessing that they’re each other’s anchors, but Liam will worry about it when he’s not reassuring his mom. 

“Does this kind of thing happen often?”

Liam wavers between honesty and telling the truth, until a yawn fights its way up from his throat and actually cracks his jaw; so much has happened tonight that Liam is shocked to realize it’s only around four in the morning. His dad will be off shift soon, and then Liam will have to explain it all over again, although he has the feeling his dad already knows pretty much everything, what with working at the hospital.

His mom softens, touches his arm once, turning him a bit. “You’re exhausted. We’re safe enough now, right?” He nods; the Sheriff took the hunters away, and Brett called on some of his pack to patrol the area. It’s probable the hunters were working on their own, but it doesn’t hurt to be careful. Plus, Liam texted Theo about it, and he’s pretty sure he heard the familiar rumble of Theo’s truck somewhere nearby, so they’ll be doubly protected. Weird to think how much trust he’s willing to put in Theo, after what happened. “Then go to bed. We’ll talk more in the morning.” She takes Brett by the arm before he can turn to leave, Brett stilling under her touch. “You should stay. I don’t want you walking home alone.”

Brett looks nonplussed, probably because he’s so big it’s rare for anyone to be concerned about him, but then he smiles, looking almost shy as he agrees. 

They all group together as they climb the basement stairs, Liam careful to keep the spiderwebs away from his hair, until they’re standing in the kitchen, where his mom kisses him on the forehead and hugs Brett, seemingly willing to forgive now that she knows more of their story. 

They’re so tired that they don’t bother with the air mattress or finding separate beds; choosing instead to strip down to joggers and falling into Liam’s bed together, Liam arranging his body around the long curve of Brett’s back, nose in the dip where his skull meets his spine, hand creeping around his waist and onto the soft skin of his stomach, which turns out to be ticklish, Brett jerking against him and almost elbowing him in the chin. Eventually, they get settled, close and warm under Liam’s comforter, together. Liam sleeps better than he ever has in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompts were 'I'm fine, let me see your face," and "We're gonna have to keep ice on that."
> 
> only a couple more chapters to go!


	11. lori talbot is able to provide a large selection of speciality 'ugly pictures of brett' t-shirts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm back! only a couple chapters left...may whoever pines the best win

“I’m not doing it.” 

Brett throws a long arm around Liam’s shoulders, grinning down at him. There are still dark shadows under his eyes from the fight with the hunters a couple nights ago, but they’re fading and really only make Brett look _more_ like a model. Sometimes life is so unfair. “I think you have to."

Liam glowers up at him, squeezed under his arm as they walk through campus, kids occasionally turning to look; they’re used to seeing Brett visiting him by now, it’s just hard not to notice someone like him. Liam allows himself a moment of smugness for catching someone like Brett, even if it’s mostly unearned, a thought that causes unease to curdle in Liam’s stomach, his hand snaking around Brett’s tiny waist to tug him in further, Liam tipping his head. 

An invitation for Brett to scentmark him that Brett takes, brushing his nose along Liam’s neck, Liam feeling the curve of Brett’s smile against his skin moments before Brett kisses, once, at Liam’s jugular. A threat from anyone but those you’re most close to. It _means_ something, Liam just doesn’t know enough about being a werewolf to fully explain. He could ask Scott, if he was here. Or Theo, if he didn’t mind being mercilessly teased. 

“Careful, Liam, I might get carried away.” Liam’s currently forcing down a strong urge to tackle Brett to the ground and have his way, can only blink up at Brett as he smiles, pressing a finger to the tinge of red spreading across Liam’s cheek. 

“You’re not going to distract me,” Liam grumbles, brushing Brett’s hand away; Brett manages to twist their fingers so they’re holding hands, his thumb touching the rabbit-fast pulse in Liam’s wrist. “I’m not going to your stupid game.”

“You love lacrosse.”

“Not Devenford lacrosse.” He doesn’t want to face teammates who couldn’t even be that; people who drove Liam out of the school like some howling mad thing. If only they could see him now. 

“Please? No one but Lori ever comes to see me.” Which is _true_. Liam had always wondered where Brett’s family was, why they didn’t come to see their star player. Now, he understands. 

“Fine. I’ll be there. But I’m not cheering for you.” 

Brett’s smile is small and honest. He darts in for a kiss, softer than they’re used to. Liam sucks in a breath and turns pinker. “Yeah, you are.”

* * *

Liam shoves his hands into his armpits, hunches over on the chilly metal bench that’s rapidly warming with his body heat. Next to him, Lori is wearing a hideously ugly Devenford tee that she probably designed herself, with Brett’s face plastered in the middle. She’s grinning and unselfconscious, nudging Liam while she leans down to fish for the Thermos of hot chocolate she has in her bag. It’s nice, how much they care about each other, how accustomed Lori is to attending other games, nodding to the parents and girlfriends of the other players.

Liam had wanted a sibling for most of his childhood, a dream he quickly released when his bio dad left. His mom makes jokes about having another baby, but she doesn’t really want to, and Liam’s happy with his pack as surrogates.

Lori gives him an easy mile, clapping her hands together. “Brett’s really excited you came, he wouldn’t stop talking about it.” A little blip of pleasure zings down Liam’s spine; Lori, at least, can be trusted to always know how Brett’s really feeling.

“He didn’t tell me.”

Lori gives him a sardonic look, one that’s familiar from often being on Brett’s face. “He’s shy cause he likes you so much.”

Liam sputters as the team sprints onto the field, Lori snickering. He ignores her, tunes into the rest of the crowd. He was sort of expecting this to be worse, for him to be able to hear the whispers a human couldn’t, or even for one of his old classmates to start a fight Liam would be _happy_ to finish. But he only really catches the odd, vaguely curious whisper, more focused on his relationship with Brett than what Liam did before he left. It’s enough that he can sit back in his seat on the bleachers, against the railing behind him.

Brett must be tracking his heartbeat, cause he catches Liam’s eye and waves as they spread onto the field, Brett lifting his shirt to expose that perfect eight-pack Mason never shuts up about, the muscles bunching and pulling as he runs a hand through his golden curls. A boy three rows down from them visibly sighs before getting elbowed in the ribs by his friend, who laughs. 

Liam feels a kind of weird protectiveness. Brett is beautiful, of course, it’s just...He wonders how much of Brett’s beauty is a mask he can use when he needs to. Being a werewolf, keeping his pack safe, befriending people he doesn’t even like just to protect his sister. 

Liam’s jolted from his reverie by Lori’s nudge and the shrill scream of the whistle, the familiar thunk of lacrosse sticks against grass. Brett throws one last look at Liam; his eyes aren’t hooded for once, pupils blown wide by adrenaline. Liam half thinks he can smell Brett, cherries and fresh cut grass, but that’s probably wishful thinking. He keeps an eye on Brett and resigns himself to cheering for Devenford.

* * *

It’s a little weird to be waiting outside the locker room for Brett, when Liam is usually the one emerging sweaty and victorious. Because of course Devenford won, Brett wouldn’t allow anything less. Liam’s jostled in the crowd, standing a bit away from Lori as she talks to another student who’s probably also an artist, judging from the paint stains on his jeans. “I’ve never seen anyone take a tackle like that without breaking something,” he gushes.

Lori, who knows perfectly well that tackle had briefly fractured Brett’s ankle, winces. “Yeah, he’s...really tough, I guess.” 

Liam’s distracted by Brett emerging from the locker room and into the crowd of admiring fans, who clap him on the back as he makes his single-minded way to Liam, giving him a long, movie-star kiss that has Liam feeling like he’s being conquered, making him all squirmy inside as Brett pulls back to talk with Lori, keeping Liam near with an arm around his shoulders. 

This close, Brett smells almost too good, like heat and blood, the wolf only just under Liam’s skin this close to the full moon. He wants to curl around Brett, drinking him in, doesn’t realize his claws are out til they catch in the fabric of Brett’s duffle bag. Brett hears the snag of fabric, the rip, Liam flinching when they lock eyes. “I’m sorry, I…” He shrugs, apologetic but helpless about it. Brett will understand, even if Brett has the perfect control of most born wolves. 

“We should get out of here, I’m tired anyway,” Brett says, yawning behind one hand as he hefts his duffle bag to hide the new tear and Liam folds his fingers against his palms. Brett pulls him a little closer, squeezing.

“Thanks,” he murmurs, safe tucked against Brett’s side, Brett’s fingers stroking reassuringly across Liam’s shoulders. This is what it could be like, he imagines, if they were really dating. Brett keeping him close, protective like he is with anyone he cares about. But it’s not, Liam reminds himself, stomach curdling with disappointed emotion. It’s not like that, no matter how much he might want it to be.


	12. YES liam got railed NO i did not have the ability to write it well....a fade to black sex scene who am i

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this is the end, guys...my contribution to the very small brett/liam fandom ^.^ i've had so much fun writing this as one of my lighter stories, besides the parts where...hunters tried to kill them but that's just typical tw stuff. i hope you guys liked it as much as i do, cause this chapter went nowhere close to where i was expecting it to, but i like this better :) kinda took this to a weird, mildly kinky place in parts but u guys will probably be into it

“You should’ve texted me,” Liam says, annoyed, heading outside to where Brett’s standing just before his front steps. It’s unsettling to be half asleep and sensing another werewolf, something that had jolted Liam awake and fanged before he recognized Brett’s heartbeat. “We’re lucky my parents are on a date.” He stumbles to a stop when Brett doesn’t answer with his usual sardonic teasing, Liam standing on the top step, of a height with Brett.

Brett’s eyes are far off, a little sad; he smells wrong. Liam’s first thought is to be scared, to check Brett over for wounds, but he looks alright. Just sad. “Liam…” He trails off. “I just wanted to see you. Make sure you’re okay.” 

That changes Liam from mild anger to surprise, to being a bit apologetic. “I’m fine. But you scared me.” He bops Brett lightly on the chest, swaying him back a little. 

“Right, yeah, I’m sorry, I just…” Brett cuts himself off, sucks in a breath. “We almost _died_.” Liam, who has become fairly used to almost dying, realizes that’s apparently not the normal werewolf experience. He swallows down the faint, familiar grief at what his life has become, wraps Brett up in the least awkward hug he can manage. It may not be as successful as he’s hoping, considering their shoulders bump a little painfully.

“Hey, shh, it’s okay,” Liam murmurs against Brett’s forehead, taking in a surreptitious breath of Brett’s scent. He thinks Brett might be doing the same thing, the two of them anchoring themselves, Liam trying to calm his heart pounding just from having Brett this close. 

“M’not a baby,” Brett mumbles into Liam’s shoulder, but he also doesn’t push Liam away when Liam’s hand rises to his hair, stroking through the short strands at his nape. He feels a little uncomfortable doing it; Liam isn’t a touchy person, never has been. But Brett leans into the touch, just a little, his face relaxing. 

“Let me do this for you,” Liam says, can’t resist, “I’m your boyfriend, after all.” Brett doesn’t argue, nods into Liam’s neck instead. “Come inside.” Brett loops their fingers together as they head through the door, allows Liam to tug him along like he did that night with the hunters. Liam is nervous as he brings Brett up to his room, overly aware of how alone they are, the possibilities of Brett’s skin against his. “You can, um, sit on my bed,” he offers with a sweeping hand motion that Brett raises an eyebrow at. 

“I’ve been in here like a dozen times,” Brett reminds him, sitting on Liam’s bed and bouncing a little, color already back in his cheeks as he returns to the territory of teasing Liam. “Remember? When I threatened to get you pregnant?” 

Liam mentally screams _Why is that hot?!_ and outwardly settles for glaring, crawling over Brett to lay prone on his bed, facing away from him. “Hmph.” 

“Liam...come on. Even my superpowered werewolf sperm couldn’t actually do that, stop pouting,” Brett says, turning to nudge Liam in the ribs with two fingers. Liam can feel the blush crawling up from his neck to his ears, exposing him even if his scent wasn’t giving off clear signals. There’s a pause, the sound of Brett inhaling; Liam doesn’t have to turn to know Brett’s grinning widely, stares hopelessly at the shelf opposite him where he keeps his books. “Oh. You’re _into_ that,” Brett says slowly, his voice maybe a bit rougher.

“ _Shut up_ ,” Liam hisses, desperate, hysterically wondering if werewolves can die from embarrassment and half hoping they can.

He had thought, at the beginning of this, that he’d spend the night comforting Brett, working through trauma or whatever. Trust Brett to immediately regain his cool.

And Liam is annoyed now, as Brett turns fully and strokes a finger down Liam’s spine, over his shirt, Liam’s hips rising to meet it of their own volition. God, he’s embarrassed, to be mooning over Brett for weeks now, getting sucked up in the headiness of almost feeling that this relationship is real.

“Honey…” Brett’s voice is like _syrup_ , and Liam shudders, feels his eyes flash gold with a mix of lust and anger. 

“ _Stop_.”

Brett’s hand is gone immediately, Liam rolling to his back and bravely ignoring how hard he is. “I’m sorry, um, I read that wrong…” Brett starts, hands safely in his lap.

Liam raises his own hands to his face, drags them over it as he blows out a breath. “No, you didn’t.” 

“Okay…” 

“You’re confusing,” Liam admits to the ceiling, can’t look Brett in the eye. “What do you want from me?” 

“Anything you’ll give me,” Brett returns, grinning when Liam finally meets his pretty, _pretty_ eyes. “Dunbar, you idiot, you’re my anchor. It doesn’t get much more solid than that.” 

Liam shoves him a little, like, be serious right now, Brett rocking back and then twisting to fall onto Liam, a hand on either side of Liam’s head, their noses almost touching. Liam sucks in a breath but that just makes it _worse_ , makes Brett’s scent fill his lungs in the moment before Brett presses their mouths together, the kiss familiar but _more_. Brett licks at his bottom lip, lush and wet, Liam opening his mouth as his hands rise to hold Brett’s broad shoulders. _Not clutching_ , he tells himself; that’s for romance novel heroines. Just holding, to feel Brett solid and strong against him. 

“So we’re-” Liam tries between kisses, as Brett shifts to cover his whole body, so much _bigger_ in a way that has Liam feeling safe. Satisfied. 

“We’re anything you want to be, Liam, I obviously like you very much.” Brett’s laughing at him, as always, but at some point it turned into what Liam craves, Brett’s happy, endeared smile, his fondness for Liam. 

“Dating. For real this time.” 

“Yes,” Brett murmurs, bending to kiss Liam’s neck, right over the pulse, and after that things move very fast.

* * *

Liam wakes up at some point during the night, when his parents come home from their date tipsy and giggling, reminding each other to be quiet. He stirs, a little, stuck at that in-between state of sleepiness, aware of Brett’s arm draped around his waist, their bodies curled into commas. Brett makes a noise, almost whining, a lupine sound that’s incongruously cute. Liam thinks of puppies.

His chuckling is enough to wake Brett, who nips at the skin behind his ear, slurs, “M’not ready to wake up, but keep doing that and I will be,” when Liam shifts against him. 

“My parents are home,” Liam says into the dark, too comfortable and warm for his eyelids to lift.

“They already think we’re dating,” Brett reminds him, pulling Liam a little closer, and Liam’s only too happy to stay where he is.

* * *

Brett left Beacon Hills High ten minutes ago, back to Devenford and his jerk friends. He looked especially good today, with his uniform opened at the collar to expose the hollow of his throat. Liam’s flicking idly through Twitter, waiting for his break to be over and Mason to come back from exploring Corey’s tonsils, when his phone lights up with a text from an old teammate.

It’s the kind of thing Liam’s been expecting for a while, a video of Brett in someone’s backyard being egged on by his asshole friends, promising to fuck Liam over for $600. Liam knows Brett enough by now to see how uncomfortable he is, the stiff, unnatural movements. It would probably have triggered Liam into an episode, once. Or if he didn’t know what was going on.

Liam grins to himself, blocks the number and puts his phone down. A moment later it vibrates, Liam pulled away from the last minute Chem homework he’s been doing to read the newest text.

Liam just tips his head back and laughs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The prompts for this were, "You should've have called me," "Hey, shh, it's okay" and uhhh maybe another but i can't remember lol.  
> The photo of the hand can be found at snoopdogkaiwutang on tumblr, and the video is just smth from my phone that's really a snapchat of me playing w a bee :)  
> also YES i have gotten a vpn, it's nord. i'm not like. sponsored or anything ALTHOUGH nord..if ur out there... but if ur looking for one i recommend it :)  
> just to clarify there will be NO mpreg, liam just wants to like. be claimed n shit

**Author's Note:**

> always thought that fake-dating bet stuff in movies was stupid af when they could just split the money. i would never want to date someone who would take a bet like that even if they had changed or whatever


End file.
